Stay the Night
by jwootan02
Summary: Bakugo realizes he has a crush on Uraraka. Uraraka is just trying to leave her life pre-UA behind her. A certain someone won't let her — determined to prove he's what's best for her, by force if necessary. ANGSTY BADASS URARAKA. PROTECTIVE BAKUGO. CREEPY URARAKA STALKER.
1. Bloom - The Paper Kites

**Author's Note: Discovered I love Uraraka and Bakugo together today so this was excessively born in the last few hours. Honestly was just running off a whim so I didn't really go back and proofread, though if this keeps going a while I'll eventually go back and fix any mistakes. **

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Ochaco Uraraka brushed an arm across her tear stained cheek, ignoring the tiny sparks of pain against her scrapes and bruises. She knew her parents were right. She should be proud of herself. She made it so much further in the festival than most of the other students, even without the raw power of a quirk like Deku's, Todoroki's or…

Bakugo's.

The door to the waiting room burst open and she flinched away, waiting for a barrage from the other side. Instead, no one entered for a moment only for Katsuki Bakugo to stroll in with his nonchalant swagger. The arrogance made her bristle, swiftly swiping the tears from her other cheek. There was no doubt that her eyes were puffy and swollen, and she balled a fist at her side knowing that he would surely see her weakness.

She wanted to explain herself — tell him that she wasn't crying because of him. She'd just wanted to make her parents proud.

He turned his sharp gaze on her, maintaining his hands slipped into his pockets as if to make sure everyone knew that they were beneath his full attention. She straightened her spine as he took his time looking her over and her patience grew thin.

"Did you come to gloat or what?" she snapped, startled by her own vulnerable intensity.

His impassive stare was unchanging as he approached her. "No," he said, his voice always a low growl. "I wanted to see how I'd overlooked you."

The bold statement caught her off guard and her lips parted.

"Uraraka, right?"

She nodded a little more vigorously than she'd wanted. His eyes drifted down her body, past her torn tank top and uniform pants and back up again and she was shocked with his brazenness.

"Hmph," he grunted. "Don't get lost in the extras anymore," he said turning back for the door, "Uraraka."

Her feet moved before she could stop herself. "Wait," she said in a rush as she reached for his wrist. He spun on her and his nearness was disarming. She felt the blush creeping to her cheeks as she caught a view of Bakugo she'd never seen before. His features were relaxed as he looked down on her, his eyes softer than she'd expected as he waited for her to speak.

She fought the urge to put some distance between them and instead levelled her stance. "Why are you being nice to me?"

His smirk was slow and… oddly distracting. "You're not the only one full of surprises," he said quietly as he raised his thumb to touch the burn he'd caused across her jaw.

She wasn't blind to the fact that Bakugo was one of the most attractive boys in her class, but she'd never been able to really see past his scowl. Now she had a clear view to his wide eyes and sharp cheekbones. And his jaw was strikingly more mature than most of the other boys'...

Her blush was now more obvious than ever and his smirk spread.

He released her and she realized she was still holding onto his arm. She dropped it as if she'd been burned and he laughed as her cheeks flooded with heat. The sound was bizarre. His laugh was deep and his rough voice made it seem somehow angry and yet she felt special, somehow, as she realized she'd never heard him laugh in their two months of being in the same class.

Smiling slightly, she brought her hands up to hide the pink of her cheeks.

Bakugo gripped her wrists and pulled them away, exposing her blush as his soft, if not apathetic, expression returned. "Don't," he said. "It's… cute." He struggled with the word and it only brightened the color on her face, returning his smirk to his lips.

There was a warm prickling in her chest that she didn't recognize and she found herself remembering her first kiss back in grade school. Mortification struck her and her eyes went wide as she realized just what that implied she was thinking of Bakugo right now.

That's _Bakugo_, she reminded herself.

But she couldn't deny that she felt a flutter familiar from her memories and a heat that was completely foreign. She stood in his hold, immobilized and concerned for just where her thoughts were drifting to as he searched her face unhurried.

He released her at last and stepped back, giving her some room to finally think properly. Slipping his hands back in his pockets, but never taking his eyes off of her, he said, "I'll see you around?"

He was already walking away when she stuttered out a hushed, "Yeah."

She waited for the blur of whatever had just happened between herself and Bakugo of all people before heading back to the stands with her class. Part of her felt like she'd just made up the entire encounter in her mind. Or maybe Bakugo had a clone running around the stadium? Should she warn Aizawa-Sensei?

No, of course not, she thought, shaking the foolish half-hearted thoughts from her head.

Still, it was difficult to believe Bakugo had come to her at all, let alone to inadvertently compliment her. And the way he was looking at her… The unknown heat filled her again. She didn't have much experience with boys, after all she'd been pining after Deku since the entrance exam, but she could have sworn she recognized the blatant interest in his eyes - and he hadn't seemed to care that she saw it, either.

She turned toward the descending stairs of her class' reserved booth in the stands and her eyes were immediately drawn to spiky blonde hair sitting next to the aisle. Swallowing the blush threatening her tender cheeks once more, she stepped down and passed the explosive boy to find a seat between Iida and Tokoyami.

The match between Deku and Todoroki was beginning below and she tried to push the thoughts of Bakugo away, still feeling as if it had all been a dream. Daring a peek over her shoulder, her eyes locked with glowing red. He was leaned forward over his knees already looking at her and she blushed. She whipped her face back forward, but not fast enough to miss the explosion boy's smirk.

* * *

When the Sports Festival ended, the students were all given an optional release instead of being awkwardly forced back on their busses to ride to campus amidst the tension left behind by the fights. Ochaco watched most of the other classes board their busses amicably, however her own class dispersed quickly.

She hoped Iida and his brother were doing okay after his abrupt departure toward the end of the matches. It was hard to picture her valiant, steadfast friend hurting.

"Uraraka!" Sato called out, stepping up beside her as she passed through the massive gates of the stadium.

She smiled in greeting. "Sato, what's up?"

"Do you need someone to walk with you?" he asked and she grinned up at his kindness.

"No, I'm okay," she answered. "My apartment is pretty close."

"Okay, be safe!" he said, turning the other direction.

"Thank you!" she shouted after him.

Deku said he'd needed to speak with someone before he could leave and she hadn't really felt like lingering inside after her performance today. A few of the others who hadn't participated in the final tournament were going to get ice cream, but she couldn't bring herself to join them - even when Tsu had begged her.

Even walking back to the lonely little apartment rubbed her loss in further. Her parents were already spread thin, they didn't need to be over-extending themselves on her behalf. But she could already hear her dad's voice in her head telling her that's what parents are for - to make your dreams possible.

She followed the lines of the sidewalk as she headed toward the small, local grocery store before she would inevitably resign herself to go home. However, if the errand took longer than normal, she wouldn't be upset about it.

A shoulder brushed against her, almost knocking her into the edge of the massive cement wall that surrounded the festival stadium.

"Hey!" she yelled, turning on the offender.

"Hey," Bakugo answered, his voice lower than normal.

She froze and he stopped a few steps ahead of her.

What on earth was happening?

She'd seen his feral refusal to accept the first place award for the festival only moments ago. He was quite literally growling, his features morphed with rage that could be seen even from her place in the stands. That was the Bakugo she knew.

Not this Bakugo. Not the Bakugo who touched her chin and laughed with her and had basically told her that he liked her blush. No. This was not real.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, a thick ball in her throat kept her from the entirely brave voice she'd tried to channel.

"Walking with you. What does it look like?" he countered. "Are you gonna stand there all day or what?"

She brushed her fringe out of her eyes restlessly and stepped away from the wall. "Why?"

"Why what?"

She watched him slip his hands into his pockets and tilt his head in his question. "Why are you wanting to walk with me?"

"Because I do whatever I want, Round Face," he replied haughtily.

She scrunched her brow. "You know my name. You can stop calling me Round Face."

"Okay, how about Pink Face?" he offered, smirking.

A blush crept onto her cheeks. "What?! Why?"

He looked at her with open amusement. "Because you never stop blushing around me."

Her jaw popped open and she felt that frozen, hot feeling in her chest again. There was no use even trying to hide the blood she felt rushing to her cheeks after he was so straight forward about it.

She stomped past him, her fists balled at her sides.

He followed her, falling into her pace naturally and she wondered if he had any clue where they were going or why he would even choose to follow her blindly over anything else in the world he could be doing. Didn't he have parents somewhere who'd watched the festival and wanted to congratulate him?

After a few blocks of uncomfortable silence that made her sweat more than she would like to admit she risked a look over at him. He stared straight ahead, his face calm and eyes relaxed. It was another version of Bakugo she wasn't used to. She tried to remember if he ever looked so… normal. Had she ever noticed him during their regular classes?

No, she'd always overlooked him to see Deku sitting behind him.

"Don't you want to know where we're going?" she asked, breaking the quiet.

"Yep," he answered quickly, continuing to watch their surroundings.

She eyed him quizzically. "Are you going to ask?"

"Are you going to tell me?"

Ochaco ran nervous fingers through a long piece of her hair that hung near her face. "I'm going to get groceries."

"Good," he replied, keeping his pace even with hers. "I'm hungry."

She felt the sudden need to tell someone that this was a real thing happening to her right now, but she held it in. There was a doubt in her mind that anyone would even believe her if she told them, but she had to admit to herself that something about Bakugo wanting to hang out with her and being nice to her made her feel… special.

She shook the thought from her mind. Sure, he'd beaten her in the Sports Festival, and sure, his quirk was significantly more aggressive than hers, but he was not better than her. There was no need for her to unconsciously separate herself from him or put him or anyone else on a pedestal.

They walked the rest of the way to the grocery store in a less uncomfortable silence, though there was still a prickling energy between them that had Ochaco looking over at him every once in a while.

He followed her willingly through the small store as she picked up a few meats and tofu along with some rice. When they came upon the produce section she picked out some potatoes and onions, but when they reached the peppers Bakugo ripped off a bulk bag and started sifting through the different peppers and popped a handful into his clear sack.

"Just peppers?" she questioned him, studying the varying shades of red, yellow, and orange peppers he'd chosen.

"A snack," he said and she reluctantly decided not to press further on the strange issue.

The small line at the single check out moved quickly and more than once she had to ground herself to the reality that she was grocery shopping with Bakugo in her free time.

"Ochaco!"

"Kuwami!" she smiled at the young man behind the small counter when it was her turn.

He reached for her selections and tallied up her total. "I watched the Sports Festival any time I could! They broadcasted it live. You did so well - even against that prick who won."

Ochaco choked, feeling the tension from the boy behind her.

Bakugo set his bag of peppers on his counter with her things and Kuwami turned to look at him. They were both still wearing their UA training uniforms and the store clerk's mouth snapped shut.

He stammered out the price of all of their groceries and she reached into the bag slung over her shoulder just as Bakugo slammed a handful of money on the counter.

"Keep the change." He grabbed all their bags and walked away.

"Erm," Ochaco said, looking desperately between the employee she'd gotten to know on occasion over the last two months and her surly classmate. "I better go."

"B-be careful," Kuwami stammered as she chased after Bakugo.

She found him outside, standing off underneath a covering that proclaimed the name of the shop.

"I'm sorry about that," she heard herself saying. "I understand if you're upset…" Why was she consoling him? This was Bakugo, she reminded herself.

"I'm not out here pouting," he growled. "I don't know where you live."

"Oh," she said reflexively. Realization dawned on her. "You want to come over?"

He tilted his head. "I'm not carrying your shit for no reason."

A foreign thrill shot through her at the idea of being alone in her apartment with Bakugo and she wasn't sure if it was fear or… something else.

She didn't respond, instead taking off toward her apartment. They walked together, shoulder to shoulder - well, sort of, more like shoulder to mid-arm - the few blocks left and Bakugo munched on his peppers in their silence. He had been eerily vigilant after leaving the grocery store, his head cocked and constantly checking their surroundings. They climbed the concrete stairs to her plain gray door and she fumbled with her keys on the last step before reaching for the knob.

Only to realize her door was already open.

She hesitated and Bakugo stepped up to her side. "What?"

She met his eyes. "The door's unlocked. I know I locked it this morning," she said, her voice trailing off.

Bakugo switched all the grocery bags to one hand and, not so gently, shoved her out of the way. He opened the door with a quick hand and immediately pounding footsteps barreled toward them. Bakugo bent in a stance in front of her when she recognized those eager steps.

"Mom! Dad!" she exclaimed, shoving Bakugo out of the way even harder than he'd shoved her.

Her parents swept her up in a group hug and she couldn't help the tears that escaped her for the second time today.

"Why are you here?!"

Her parents released her and she felt the waves of their pride rolling into her from their smiles.

"Your old man just had to come see his little champion," her father said, a gentle coating of tears behind his eyes.

Her mother reached for her arm. "We're here to celebrate with you."

"Huh?" she asked. "But what about work? Did you take a bullet train here?"

"Don't worry about us," her father said. "We're here to support you."

"We'll catch a late train tonight to be back at work in the morning. They'll be able to survive without us for a day," her mother said cheerily.

"Who's your friend?" her father asked, his voice straightening up.

Bakugo stepped through the threshold slowly and Ochaco dared to think he seemed nervous.

"Erm," she stuttered. "This is Katsuki Bakugo. He's in my class." She could feel the blush rising to her cheeks, betraying the legitimate innocence of the situation. She'd never even introduced a male friend to her parents, let alone actually dated anyone. She cut off that train of thought before it could dare to get started.

Bakugo didn't say anything on his own behalf, filling a breath of silence with awkwardness.

"We watched the Sports Festival on television," Ochaco's dad said, eyeing Bakugo. Ochaco bit her lip thinking of what Bakugo was actually capable of doing to her father.

To her complete surprise Bakugo responded. "Your daughter is a fierce opponent. You should be proud."

Ochaco's father crossed his arms.

Her mother smiled. "It's so nice to meet you, Bakugo. Come," she urged, "have dinner with us."

Ochaco started to refuse for him, imagining the consequences of a trapped Bakugo, but he simply nodded to her mother. "Thank you."

"I'm sure you're starving after a day like today," her mother said sunnily, draping an arm over Bakugo's shoulders and leading him into the kitchen. Ochaco listened in disbelief as he set their bags on the counter and made small talk about what was for dinner.

Meanwhile her father was glaring down at her in the tiny foyer of her humble apartment and she could see the gears turning behind his eyes as he chose his words carefully. "I'm glad you're making good friends."

She gulped, unwilling to expose the truth. Bakugo being here was a fluke, but the situation was too bizarre to explain to her parents with such limited time. "I wish you could meet all of my friends," she told him instead.

"As long as they take care of you like this one does, your mother and I are happy," he said, placing a warm hand on her shoulder.

She blanched, but did her best to hide her unease. They walked together toward the kitchen and Ochaco froze as she came upon the scene. Her mother was digging through cupboards, handing pots and pans to Bakugo who was slicing vegetables during her search.

Her mom's head perked up when they entered, "Oh don't worry about dinner, dear. Katsuki and I have got it all covered!"

Ochaco could not believe this was happening.

Without much else of a choice, she left them to their devices and moved to the dining room table with her dad. He sat across from her and she asked how the business was going the last few months and if anything exciting had happened. He launched into a few veiled stories, shielding her from the more serious aspects of running the business.

And she, admittedly, thought about Bakugo. The fact that her parents hadn't picked up on just how foreign this entire situation was confounded her, but she was glad to have avoided a little awkwardness over it all. Except that meant all the awkwardness piled up inside of her instead of being spread between them.

This was the boy who shouted "DIE" when he threw the softball on their first day, who talked trash about every single one of her classmates, who flew off the handle on Deku in their first battle training, and who didn't know her name before he happened to be matched against her in the tournament - TODAY.

She'd never seen him anything less than over-confident and ruthless - let alone paying for her groceries and cooking with her mother.

She had been through many unbelievable things since starting at UA, but she was starting to think this was the most outrageous. She thought of her phone, still in her bag, and considered texting someone about it, but decided against it.

A plate appeared before her and she looked up to see her mother bringing in table-wear as Bakugo brought in the food.

She noticed his lack of potholders and wondered if his quirk offered him an immunity to heat.

They all served themselves and she itched with her proximity to Bakugo who took the seat at her side. Her mother had always been a passable cook while her father nearly set the kitchen on fire every time he stepped foot in it, but as she looked at the meal she didn't recognize she felt the effort Bakugo had put into it.

This was the weirdest day ever.

"I didn't want to say anything," her mother spoke up between bites, "but, I'm sorry, I have to."

Ochaco held her breath, her heart pounding as she was ever-aware of Bakugo's presence.

"I'm grateful to see you have such a kind boyfriend who looks out for you," her mom said and Ochaco nearly choked. "I worry about this neighborhood at night and to know that you have the winner of the Sports Festival looking out for you does a lot for my heart."

Ochaco wanted to melt into the floor.

"Mom," she started, her voice shaking with the anticipation of her confession.

But a boot stepped down on her foot and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

"It's no problem," Bakugo said, taking another nonchalant bite of the dinner he'd made her family.

"As long as there's no funny business," her father declared, eyeing them both. "Ochaco, this apartment comes with a lot of responsibility and I hope that you'll respect us enough to make good choices."

Oh god, she was going to die.

"Of course not!" she nearly shouted, a thick blush rising across her face.

The managed to finish dinner without incident after that and Ochaco was beyond grateful. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. When her parents finally gathered their things to leave, she hugged them both as another round of tears threatened to spill out.

"Take care, sweetheart," her father said softly in another hug.

Her mother brazenly hugged Bakugo and, to Ochaco's shock, he hugged her back as her father glared at him. She could barely hear her mother whisper in his ear, "Take care of each other, okay?"

Bakugo nodded to her when she released him.

They left the two alone in her small apartment and after a beat of silence, she turned on her short fuse of a classmate.

"What was that?"

He slipped his hands in his pockets and she was starting to notice a pattern. "What was what?"

"Literally everything." She was raising her voice, all the tension of the evening beginning to spill out of her.

Bakugo shrugged. "Your mom's cool."

"Oh my god," Ochaco breathed. "And the boyfriend thing?"

He met her eyes thoughtfully. "Eh," he shrugged. "If I'm planning to spend more time with you anyway then the details don't really matter."

Wait, what?

"Since when are you spending more time with me?" she challenged, crossing her arms.

He took a step closer and she realized just how close they'd already been. The heat that seemed to creep inside her when he was near returned and she felt like she might start sweating.

"I already told you," he said slowly, surely. "I do whatever I want."


	2. Guillotine - Jon Bellion

Katsuki Bakugo was comfortable in his ways, never thinking far beyond the steps it would take to come out ahead. His mind was constantly whirring with strategies to make himself better, and so far in his life, those strategies had not failed him.

Until UA.

Until Deku got a quirk.

His father had once told him that high school would be different, that the norms of his ways would be challenged and changed. He hadn't believed the old man at the time and he damned himself for being so foolish. Everything had changed. He'd been cast aside, away from Deku's newfound light and though he fought his way out of the darkness tooth and nail, the shadows often felt suffocating.

He'd lost — not just lost, but he'd lost to Deku. He'd lost to himself when he'd succumbed to the lashing waves of his emotions during their first battle training. He watched himself slip away in the tide of extras and though he reminded himself that none of them would matter when he was finally on top, the pressure was binding somewhere deep in his chest.

That is, until he'd seen Ochaco Uraraka mustering the courage to challenge him through her puffy, tear-stained eyes even after he'd defeated her in the tournament. The way she'd relentlessly fought against him, coming back for more and more of a beating from his explosions, resonated with some part of him.

He knew what it felt like to tirelessly push against something that pushed you back.

He'd been intrigued by her, intrigued by the way she'd felt the need to stand up to him as if he was a threat even after their organized fight. And then when she followed after him...

He'd forgotten the last time someone touched him outside of battle.

Her blush betrayed her brave words, and made him betray a piece of his own armor he'd only been ceaselessly fortifying these first few months in high school. She was charming, disarming. Something about her made him feel...

Lighter.

So there was a part of him that knew, as he stood a breath from her rosy cheeks in the small foyer of her apartment, that he was acting somewhat uncharacteristically — that she likely was having whiplash from the boy he'd let them all see and the boy he'd exposed to her today.

But he brushed her hair behind her ear anyway.

Because he didn't think he could stop now.

She reacted to his attention so obviously, it rattled him every time. He found himself quickly admiring her softness and impenetrable force of will. Somewhere in the back of his mind he'd felt as if he'd struck gold and the fact that he'd never noticed her until now still bothered him.

Though, he supposed, he hadn't really been looking far beyond himself for years now.

"Wh-what are you doing?" her small voice whispered into the thick air between them.

Honestly? He had no fucking idea.

But his instincts had been what carried him this far in life and he would be damned if he started to ignore them now.

He grazed a finger over the spot on her chin she'd had to bandage from their fight once more. Her eyes were wide, open books of conflicting emotions and he remembered her ferocious stare in the tournament.

It had been a long time since someone had come at him without showing any fear.

"I don't know," he finally heard himself confess to the tinge of her life-blood that filled her already pink cheeks. Her ears turned hot and red when he really struck whatever cord in her sent the furious blush to her face. He found it all, well, silly.

Her lips parted at his words, drawing his attention to them and he felt a foreign quake in his chest.

He'd never kissed a girl.

But he wasn't going to let that stop him.

He leaned into her gently, anxious for the first time since his childhood that he might be rejected the way he'd been rejected so wholly by his new peers. But she opened herself to him, and when his lips fell into her own she pressed herself against him.

Waves of a foreign pleasure fell over him, washing away the stress of the last two months and leaving a swelling calm in its wake. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as she kissed him back and he pushed himself through the cold lancing of vulnerability that crawled up his throat.

His skin prickled, awareness of her spinning through him as his hand slid from her chin to cup her face. There was something so poignant about his explosive palms holding her blushing cheeks that captured him. He'd never felt anything cut him to the core this way, but when her fingers dared to press against his chest one by one he knew he wasn't strong enough to turn back.

Their kiss rolled into another and he could feel her confidence rising with the same heat of the moment he felt drumming through his senses. His free arm slid around her, her small frame startlingly breakable beneath his warm, eager muscles. He drank her in, the gentleness of her intoxicating to some deeper part of him.

She slid a grip up behind his neck and pressed against him fully. He held her between himself and the wall of her apartment, transfixed. Their mouths fit together, following each other's lead into a new unknown and he'd never felt quite so bared.

A small sound burned through her throat and into his kiss as he moved his hands to grab her hips and he'd felt as though it struck him, testing him.

He didn't know what to do next.

But the question was a small one, somewhere in the recesses of his mind that was too busy drowning in the taste of her, the heat of her.

He'd never felt anything like it.

There was a cascading thrill to it, much like the rush of victory that painted him with satisfaction. However, there was an unfamiliar mindfulness of this girl whom he barely knew. Questions he'd never have given an ounce of effort toward before were popping through head like bursts of firecrackers, each one humbling him in ways that left him exposed and uncomfortable even as his senses charged forward.

That is, until she pulled away.

The new distance between them felt cold, and he shoved the thought away.

Uraraka reared back in a broad yawn before looking away from his gaze sheepishly. "Sorry," she mumbled.

He wondered why she would apologize and why he would care.

"It's been a long day," he answered to her, quietly.

He didn't want to replay the events of the Sports Festival over again in his mind. The crushing fury of his so-called victory had set him off like never before. All he'd ever wanted was to prove himself, to prove to everyone how badly he wanted to be the best and how surely he would succeed.

He'd long known that Icy Hot bastard's quirk was stronger than him. He wasn't blind or too dense to admit it, but this had been his chance to prove everything he'd worked for these past months - all the hours he'd spent tediously budgeting his time for the greatest strides possible. He'd poured himself out like never before and all his efforts had accumulated for the very purpose of coming face to face with the son of Endeavor in the finals.

And then the prick was too proud to give the same in return.

The naive disrespect was a friction he'd struggled to endure, even now. How could they even compare in league when their missions were so dramatically contrasting? Bakugo was aware of the repelling effect he had on others. He saw the way the others looked at him and he knew that his reactions were often blindingly beyond what was necessary.

But how did they not see the greater prize on the other side of all that they were striving toward?

"Heh," Uraraka chuckled half-heartedly. He watched her eyes draw back toward him and he saw her fight to keep from looking up and down his body as he offered her an extra inch or two of space. "Yeah, I'm pretty tired."

He could hear the dismissal coming and as much as he knew she was right for it, he found it difficult to drag his feet back to free her from what was left of the moment they'd just shared.

"It's late," he pointed out, though his thoughts were on anywhere but getting home and going to bed.

She kept her back against the wall and he watched her fidget beneath his stare. "Do you live far from here?"

"The other side of Musutafu," he answered, brusquely, not looking forward to the bus ride ahead of him.

"Oh," she said, her voice perking up. "Like where Deku lives?"

The mention of Deku chilled the intensity he still felt between them and he didn't want to consider how she knew where the green-haired nuisance lived or why exactly it made him so cold.

He grunted an affirmation.

She chewed her bottom lip and he found his eyes drawn to it, remembering how she tasted. "Will you be okay on the bus this late?"

He let a brisk laugh bubble out of him. "No," he said dryly. "I think I'll need your protection from the big bad grandfather on his way home from the bar."

She shoved him and he felt himself smile.

"You're not funny," she snapped, the corners of her lips betraying her.

"He has a cane, you know," he continued on, daring her to give in to the grin he knew she was holding back from him. "And a wicked swing."

She burst out laughing and he decided it was about as liberating as seeing her blush.

He'd never enjoyed distractions, never let him loosen himself up enough to partake in them. How could there be enough time for frivolous things in the brutal climb to become the best? And yet, he'd always known to keep his sleep schedule as one of his top priorities - there were gains born in the unconscious hours not possible if he'd chosen exhaustion instead.

Maybe this was a new type of rest, he thought, as he realized the furious stress of his day had melted - clearing a way for clarity in his typically riotous mind.

"W-well," she stuttered out after simmering down from her fit of laughter. "Uhm."

Her pause was too long, too cautious.

"Well what?"

"Erm," she choked on her words, a slow blush spreading across her round cheeks. "You could always, um, stay here."

The idea hit him like a blow and a war broke out inside him.

A bizarrely short, one-sided war.

A slow smirk crawled across his lips. "Are you asking me to sleep with you?"

"What?! No!" she shouted defensively, bringing her hands up as a barrier between their chests. "I have a couch," she rambled out, desperately.

"Do you think I'm the type of person who would sleep on your couch?" he baited her, toying with his well-raised arrogance like a banner at his back.

"Well, after today, I have no idea what type of person you are anymore," she countered and her honesty cut through him.

Who was he?

What an absurd question.

"I'm the best," he answered her, as if it should have been obvious.

Her lips settled into a thin line. "I mean beneath that," she said. "You can't tell me that all you are is the strongest. I saw you cooking with my mother today."

His brow furrowed. "What? Your mom is nice?"

"You know what I mean," she snapped with a half-hearted bite. "Since when do you walk anyone home? Or buy their groceries?"

"I've always been capable of those things," he explained, waiting for his bristling temper only to find a void of curiosity.

"Then why don't you do them?"

"I've never wanted to before," he answered quicker than he'd intended.

"Why not?" she pressed, dropping her hands to her sides. She was still leaning against the wall and though he'd given her a little breathing room, he was still standing close enough to reach out and touch her.

He shrugged, finally feeling the spark of irritation at her melee of questions. "There's no need to."

"No need to be a nice person? A friend?" her voice was rising, and though the sound was high pitched and feminine, he could hear the frustration growing in her own tone.

He levelled with her. "If I spent all my time taking care of others, I wouldn't have been able to make myself what I am today. It's a lesson you should learn too, Round Face."

"I told you to stop calling me that," she growled.

He tilted his head. "Don't deflect. You know I'm right."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're pouting," he said.

She scoffed. "I am not."

"You literally are."

She frowned and her bottom lip poked out.

He reached up with a thumb, tracing it. Her eyes whipped to him, but she didn't stop him. Her frown faded and she furrowed her brow to which he raised on in question.

"You taste sweet," she admitted softly, a blush rising to her already pink cheeks.

He dared to inch closer to her. "It's the nitroglycerine," he told her.

She seemed startled, but pleased to learn the tidbit about him and he watched her eyes travel to his lips. The time crossed his mind once more and he considered what he'd already told himself about the value in rest. Still, he remembered, maybe there was value in this type of rest too.

"You're going to keep me up all night if you keep looking at me like that and we have class tomorrow," he said finally, mustering the will to decidedly leave. Though he couldn't help that the thought of her left alone in this apartment made him uneasy for some reason.

"Oh," she breathed, her gaze falling to the floor on the other side of the small hallway. "You're right."

He reached for her chin with his thumb and fore-finger, channeling the victorious feeling he'd experienced with her earlier, and brought her attention back to him.

"I'm always right," he told her.

She frowned, but he could still see the small upturns on the corner of her lips. "Not always," she corrected.

He leaned in until he could feel the presence of her lips so close to his own. "I'll let you know the day you prove me wrong," he whispered and kissed her.

Her reactions to him where blinding. She pulled him toward her naturally this time and he almost forgot that he'd been trying to make an exit. He could still taste the nitroglycerine of his quirk on her lips as he broke away.

Her eyes were still closed when he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"Wish me luck against the old man's cane."

He relished in her answering grin as he stepped away from her, the distance feeling unnatural after all their closeness.

"Goodnight, Bakugo," he heard over his shoulder as he reached for the knob her door.

He didn't answer until he was outside in the warm July breeze. "Goodnight, Uraraka."

* * *

**Author's Note: So grateful for the hundred views on the first chapter of this! And special thanks to the review - those really inspire a person to continue.**

**I really enjoyed Bakugo's POV and I hope to have done him justice and exposed some potential depth to my favorite character. I hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading this far! Leave me some love if you want more! xoxo**


	3. The Definition of Not Leaving - HLH

She was just so beautiful.

He was a blur in the crowd. Nothing more than an innocent bystander, another spectator to the world's favorite sport. Roars reverberated all around. They were all cheering her on, he knew. Who wouldn't look at her and want to celebrate her?

But she was his.

He knew this.

She had to be.

Her steps onto the concrete stage made by one of those _heroes _were strong, steady. She was a diamond among them, a bright light amidst the mundane. Her opponent was bland, another spiky haired boy in a sea of spiky haired boys that created the body of wannabes that was UA.

But he couldn't bring himself to hate UA, not when Ochaco Uraraka had chosen to go there.

Even if their gates kept him at bay, even if she was out of reach within their walls.

Here, though, he could be near her.

He'd even taken the care to choose a seat with a perfect view of hers. She would find him thoughtful, he was sure, as he watched her. It had been painful to see her constantly surrounded by boys in the stands, but they were just that - boys. So when they'd made her laugh and blush, he'd seen, and he knew that there was nothing they could do that he couldn't do better.

He just had to show her.

They signalled the start and he watched her fly into the offensive. A fever shook through him watching her fierceness, her blinding morals. Her opponent didn't seem to understand just what she was though. He pushed her back with his lightning quick explosions, one after another.

He gripped the arm of his stadium seat.

She would not relent, her passion flowing through her, rippling through the crowd who shouted out their jeers of the boy who beat her down. This could not stand. The blonde boy fought her still, and he watched her plan unfold, pulling a hand to his teeth to bite down and rip away the fine edges of his toughened fingernails.

Uraraka would win.

There was no other option - none that he could accept.

Her meteor shower was an artful glory. It rained down in the stadium with might and grace and he watched, enraptured. She charged for him, valiant and steadfast in just her black tank top from beneath her uniform. He could almost see the bones of her collar from his seat.

But the boy against her only looked at all her power she'd steadily accumulated to overcome him, and raised a hand. An explosion erupted from his palm, shaking the packed stadium. Its smoke blocked his view of the battle - of Uraraka - and he stood from his seat. Creeping irritation splintered him. He was blind to her. That boy had taken her from him and he frowned, the disgust curling through his lip, pressing into his cheeks.

The smoke cleared and he watched Uraraka rise from where the boy's blast had thrown her with an itching impatience. She turned on him, determined, but he knew her well. He'd seen all her faces - her joy, her sorrow, her blush, and her fear. The air around him bit against his skin, his throat. He watched her, as he always had, with anticipation and yet now he fought the dread and fury he felt on the other side of her weakening body.

Her body had always fascinated him, a wonder still to be discovered.

The boy ran for her and she moved in slow motion to reciprocate. The raucous of the crowd had dulled into a low hum of expectation and he felt his heart pounding in his chest with a heaving darkness. She fell like a dream, deteriorating before his very eyes until she crashed into the white tiled concrete beneath her.

She crawled to her opponent, her desperate fury an aching in his gut and he felt a slow, satisfied grin slide across his face. Her steel had always been his favorite part about her.

There was rarely a feeling better than watching it melt away when they were together.

It had been too long, much too long, since he'd been able to spend time with her. She was always surrounded by others, always protected by her own overflowing heart.

But that was okay, he knew, because it was all apart of her charm.

He knew she still thought of him, of their first meeting so long ago. No, she would never forget him.

The crowd stilled at the announcement of her defeat, his own crushing upset echoed in their silence. He switched to a new finger, tearing at the stump of a nail and relishing in the sting of the bleed left behind. It was a small relief.

He eyed the blonde as the UA bots retrieved her tired, unconscious form.

Uraraka was better than that boy, better than all of them.

He knew it.

How dare him. How dare that meaningless teenaged boy take advantage of her, advantage of the opportunity to be so close to her…

Close enough to touch.

He recognized him now - the boy who'd declared to the world that he would surpass them all. What a fool. It was clear who would always outstand the rest - always leave a lasting mark on all those she encountered.

Uraraka was carried away on a stretcher and he left his seat behind, eyeing the boy who'd ripped her right away from her.

She deserved the spotlight.

Not him.

And he would be sure to make it known - to the boy and the world. No one could crush Ochaco Uraraka.

No one but him.

He wouldn't let them get away with it.

. . .

He hated to see her sad.

The others couldn't see it, he knew, but he had witnessed all of her faces time and time again and he could plainly see the defeat had taken its toll on her. He was no more than a bystander as she left, heading for the massive archway of another UA construction. The idea to wait for her at home had crossed his mind, but he knew that would be much too serious. He needed to find some gentle alone time with her - time to try and explain himself once again.

He knew if he caught her at home that she wouldn't listen. It was hard to listen while fighting, he knew that fact well.

But her fighting instincts had not deterred him. Who wouldn't want a partner with fire? Who could hold their own in force and will?

She stepped onto the sidewalk outside and he wove between a group of fans that circled a booth selling merchandise for the benefit of the crack school. He would have his chance today - one more chance at seeing her pale cheeks and wide eyes up close.

But then a boy approached.

He slid back, casting a brief look over his shoulder. He could wait. He'd waited for her many times before, but today he felt good. Today he felt lucky.

She was freed from the attention of the boy and he moved as she did, approaching the entrance to keep from letting her disappear from him entirely. Though, even if she managed to weave her way out of his sight, he could always meet her at home.

Yes, he soothed himself, rubbing a roughly bitten nail against his thumb at his side. He could always see her at home.

He waited. Impatiently.

There weren't enough others heading off in her direction for him to move after her just yet so he waited. But the buses were loading and the guests were dissipating. He blended with a group of tourists, as she edged near the end of the building.

A dry, bristling rage filled him when _he _pushed her.

The boy who couldn't see what he saw.

The boy who'd fought her in the festival - the carnal victor among all the aspiring heroes.

He licked his teeth as he watched their encounter, gathering himself to spit on the cracking concrete. She feared him, he could feel it from here. Another reason he had to make her understand him. Who else would ever be so in tune with her? Who else could respond to her like he could?

Her movements stalled, but continued forward with a rusting unease that made his throat hot and his head hurt. It was wrong, so wrong. How could she bear to be near the stupid boy who'd taken away what she'd deserved in the festival? The boy must be pressuring her, forcing her. The thought sent a quiet, unstable heat through his chest.

He would have to protect her from the boy.

They walked together, keeping an uncomfortable distance between them. His vision was more impaired than usual, having to stay back as the blonde kept up a vigilance over his surroundings that Uraraka typically avoided. She rarely walked outside alone, though when she did she usually stared at her feet rushing along much faster than the two were lazily strolling today.

He recognized the grocery store when they entered together and growled under his breath. It was too small to follow them inside, too small not to get caught. He wouldn't mind a confrontation with the bratty blonde, but not where Uraraka could see them. She had such an innocent perspective on unorganized violence, he'd learned after their first encounter. And if he were to come across her inside, he wouldn't want her classmate or anyone else potentially standing between them. No, he preferred to have her all to himself.

So he would wait once more.

It had become a normalcy in their relationship, and he prided himself with the skill. She would be glad to know he possessed a patience that could handle her, teach her things.

He leaned against the stone wall of a business across the street, keeping far enough from the corner that it would shield his presence. An idle finger ticked against his side and he straightened the mask that covered his mouth - not his usual M.O. but he had grown used to it. For Uraraka.

The boy emerged first and adrenaline flushed through his muscles.

Now.

Now.

Now.

He could take the boy out now and nothing would get between him and Uraraka today. He needed to congratulate her - to show her how attentive and supportive he was and how much she had deserved to win, not that wild, feral boy.

But before he could step into the sunlight around the edge of the building, she followed after him. His steps halted as he watched their conversation come more naturally. His thumb traced the rough edges of his bitten nubs of fingernails as they set off together again.

He knew where they were going now.

She was taking him home.

He felt a familiar pulling and twitching inside him as he watched them walk side by side. His own quirk threatened him, whispers filling his mind.

_They're lovers._

_She's scared. Rescue her._

_She chose him over you._

The sun would set soon, but he already knew it wasn't long enough of a walk to provide him the luxury of darkness. The boy seemed even more set on surveying the unfamiliar setting around him than before. His lip curled sporadically, the shaking he felt in his gut rising to his face. This could not go on. This boy could not be an obstacle for more than one night.

He cut through the next alley he came across, slinking into its shadows naturally. It was a risk to let her out of his sight, even for just a moment, but if they were truly going home together he needed to beat them there. He couldn't let the boy be alone with her. Not in a way that he himself hadn't been in so long.

Anxiety muddled his mind. What if she had forgotten about him? What if he'd been wrong this entire time? What if she was using this boy to fill the void he'd left in her after not being able to be alone with her in so long?

No.

No, he could not let her slip away from him.

He wove through the buildings he had grown to know so well, his target a blinding blip in the forefront of his mind. Too long. She'd been out of his sight for too long. He breached the final alleyway in time to see Uraraka's wide eyes connecting with the blonde as he stepped through the threshold of her apartment.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

His palm slammed against his temple as he melded back into the shadows. He'd been stupid. So stupid.

He should have known this day would come. He'd seen how she'd grown over the past two years - what boy wouldn't be able to notice? What started as innocent jealousy had led him to discover the love of his life, though he hadn't expected her upset over the life of her friend.

But how could she blame him?

She was just so… so pretty.

Those wide, bright eyes that could swallow a person whole. That small, sweet smile that could melt away all of your flaws.

And those pale cheeks, frozen in awe as tears slid down them.

He wished he'd licked them off that day so long ago.

Tasted her.

But he'd learned his lesson then. Collateral damage must be removed from the situation, lest he want others to rip his moment with her away again.

He crouched next to the brick wall as dusk fell upon him. A gentle rain stirred and he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, reaching for one with calloused fingers. Drops misted against his hand as he covered the light, breathing in the soft burn of tobacco in the cooling July air.

His first love would approve - join him even - if she knew he was here. But she was too stubborn, too blind with her own loves to see him the way Uraraka did. Her meekness was entirely beguiling and he quickly found it an addiction as much as the cigarette burning steadily between his fingers.

He needed to find a way to get the rest of the team to see what he saw - to prioritize her the way that he did.

Her soft gasps and crumpled sobs filled his memory, pushing him through his wait. He had no plans tomorrow, none but to see Uraraka walk to school in the morning.

Though the muscles of his legs spasmed with impatience, he was capable of waiting for her.

However long it took.

Hours passed and his head was light and starry with buzzing nicotine. The brief rain had passed, though his bristling energy had not. Movement caught his attention and he snapped to the edge of the alley. Her front door was opening and he had seconds to act.

To his own chagrin, he would need his quirk to handle the boy who won the Sports Festival, but it was merely a passing emotion quickly swallowed by a greater need. He took off through the shadows, silent on well-trained feet until his back was against the side of her building across the street. He slinked along the wall, creeping up under the staircase that led up to her apartment.

He would have just a moment. One moment to quiet him and subdue him. With a quirk like explosions he would need to break him into unconsciousness faster than he ever had, lest Uraraka hear the commotion and come outside to witness.

Footsteps dropped on the concrete and he burst out from the shadows.

His hands falling onto two faces instead of one.

She looked so much like her parents.

* * *

**Author's Note: Oops, I did a thing. **

**Thank you so much for all the faves, follows, and reviews so far! It has made my heart so happy and I'm so grateful. Let me know what you think of this one too. Hopefully I caught you offguard a little... **

**Next chapter is Uraraka's POV going back to school!**


	4. Is There Somewhere - Halsey

Ochaco Uraraka stared at the text on her phone.

She'd found herself struggling to fall asleep after Bakugo had left last night, drowning in disbelief over the entire situation. If she'd managed to get any real rest she would have sworn it was all just a dream, but she rubbed a tired eye and knew that Katsuki Bakugo had really insisted on spending the evening with her.

She replayed the images of the few times he'd engaged in conversation with her parents - their acceptance of him a sharp contrast to her own. A blush rose to her cheeks remembering their moment in the foyer before he'd left, realizing perhaps she had accepted him in a way, too.

But the weirdness of it all was a dull roar in her mind behind the text from Deku.

**Won't be able to walk you to school today. Gotta get there early to have my bandages changed out. Sorry Uraraka! See you in class.**

Her thumb tapped against the edge of the screen restlessly and she avoided looking at her front door from where she stood in the hallway - its emptiness foreign after last night. She was dressed and ready, time counting down to her potential tardiness.

She swallowed the unnecessary emotion balling in her throat and put away her phone in her bag. What kind of hero was crippled by a friend's text? Sure, she preferred to walk with Deku before and after school, but she was not incapable.

She was a hero, she reminded herself once more.

A knock sounded at the door and her tension crashed in her. She braced a hand against the roughly textured wall and doubled over with heavy, broken breaths.

Get it together, Ochaco.

She tightened her hold on the straps of her backpack as she moved to peer through the tiny peephole. Spiky blonde hair and visible aggression stood on the other side, hands in his pockets. She wasn't going to be able to get rid of the explosion boy, was she? The thought lit her own temper and she tried not to let her mind drift back to last night's reflections on his absurdly foreign behavior yesterday.

Despite him being the notoriously blasty one, she had been the one to constantly snap at him yesterday. It had been a disturbing realization.

She opened the door cautiously.

"Oi, Round Face, c'mon," he said immediately, his elbow twitching as if he had gestuerd with his hand still firmly in his pocket. "We're going to be late."

"Why are you here?" she asked, her voice lower than normal as she looked ahead to the path she always took to school. A single car drove by, but otherwise the streets were quiet and empty.

Bakugo stepped toward the stairs as she stepped out onto the excuse of a patio and shut the door behind her. "To walk you to school," he told her as if it was the most normal thing.

"I don't need you to walk me to school," she countered him, unable to remove the stress from her voice while she fidgeted with her keys to lock the door. "I walk to school with Deku every morning," she added, softer now. She was grateful to be facing her apartment as the heat of a blush threatened her cheeks at the mention of her crush. She forced it away, remembering last night.

What on earth was she doing?

"That nerd's going to have to be late without you today," he answered her simply, though the bitterness crept through his tone as he spoke of his childhood "friend". She followed after his larger steps, quickly catching up to his descent.

"He uh, actually isn't coming today," she explained to him as they reached the bottom of her stairs and set off side by side.

Bakugo only grunted beside her, his surly demeanor a comfort amidst the bizarre last twenty-four hours. He kept up the same overly suspicious nature he'd shown her yesterday, his eyes darting around from time to time to check on their surroundings. As they finally came up on the brick walkway into the gates of UA, he finally slowed his checks.

"I don't really like you just showing up around me," Ochaco said finally, the nearness of the school energizing her to confront him. She could practically feel the heat coming off him in waves from how close her shoulder was to the sleeve of his wrinkled white uniform shirt. He'd discarded his blazer on their walk, tossing it lazily over his other shoulder.

Bakugo acknowledged her cooly, his posture low and she stared at his open collar void of a tie that she knew was a part of the dress code. "Then how do you want me to hang out with you?"

Did he really not know how to have friends?

She shoved away the notion of her being friends with _Bakugo_, despite the sensation of his kiss last night charging forward in her mind.

"Ask me," she told him gently.

Other students began to mill about all around them, casting passing glances over at the winner of the Sports Festival. She hadn't noticed the way he'd kept his head low until she'd started to hear the whispers. Bakugo had made quite the spectacle of himself during the award ceremony, but she expected that he wasn't prepared for the aftermath of attention that was barreling into him today.

When a few started to dare and close in on him with a mission in their eyes, she reached for his elbow and pulled them ahead faster, shooting a quick glare at the overly curious students. They stopped in their tracks and watched her practically drag a tense, bristling Bakugo, hands still in his pockets, within the walls of the education building.

She waited for him to shrug her off, but he didn't. Pulling her hand back from his arm, she ran her fingers through her hair.

Bakugo waited, watching her collect herself with wide eyes that made her think of last night, and when they set off toward their classroom he mumbled something.

"What?" she asked as they rose up the stairs to the hall that held the first year hero course classrooms.

His eyes darted down the stairs behind them before he stopped mid-step and levelled with her. "Can I have your phone number, then?"

She told herself that she couldn't help the smile that spread across her cheeks - that it was just funny to see Bakugo acting like a normal teenager like the rest of them. Yeah, that was it. She definitely wasn't actually excited to give him her phone number.

The feeling of his hands on her hips came to her mind unbidden and she blushed. "Y-yeah," she stuttered.

His head tilted and he reached up to brush the back of his knuckles across her pink cheeks before pulling out his phone and waiting for her to list off the digits with a quaking voice. He didn't hide his smirk as he sent her a text and she felt her pocket vibrate.

Footsteps sounded at the bottom of the stairs and she set off again, Bakugo a prickling presence at her back. They walked the rest of the way to class together in silence - a new kind of tension between them, though Ochaco couldn't put her finger on it.

They stepped through the doorway side by side and most of the class was already there, scattered about with their friends chatting idly about the festival.

"Bakugo!" Kirishima's voice rang out over the hum of all the others, and everyone's attention turned to the two of them standing at the door. "What a victory, dude, so manly."

"Shut it Shitty Hair!" Bakugo shouted back, instantly fuming, the sudden rage a stark contrast to their gentle moment on the stairs.

"Ochaco," Tsu called from her desk that had been surrounded by most of the girls in the class. She stepped toward the frog-like girl's desk next to her own and noticed Iida was absent.

She frowned. "Hi Tsu, do you know where Iida is?"

"Still with his family. He was debating on coming back at lunch today or staying a few more days, kero," Tsu answered and Ochaco chided herself for not thinking to check on her friend sooner.

Ochaco made her way to her seat and pulled out her phone to shoot him a quick text when she saw the notification from an unknown number. She'd already almost forgotten about Bakugo sending her a text on the stairs so she would have his number in return. His touch on her skin had been a little too… distracting.

**Again, after school?**

"Urarakaaaa," a sing-songy voice said over her shoulder.

She slammed the phone against her chest. "H-hey, Toru."

"Do you have a boyfriend?!" her invisible, boy crazy classmate squealed as the sleeves of her seemingly floating uniform raised like she was clasping her hands together with glee. Heads turned throughout the room and Ochaco dropped her head into her hands.

"Is that true, Ochaco?" Tsu asked, turning around in her chair, the girl's wide eyes piercing through her.

Mina moved closer to Ochaco, placing both hands on her desk, ready to interrogate her friend while Jiro and Momo flanked Tsu's desk. She'd enjoyed how close all of the girls had grown since the beginning of school, but she was starting to understand there would be repercussions.

"No! No, of course not," she rambled out too quickly.

They did not seem convinced.

"Toru, what did the text say?" Mina asked the girl over Ochaco's shoulder eagerly, her black and gold eyes gleaming beneath her wild pink hair.

Tsu's brow scrunched together. "I think that's an invasion of pri-"

"'Again, after school?'," Toru informed the girls - going so far as saying "question mark" out loud. Mina made a high pitched noise and slapped her hands on her cheeks watching Ochaco with so much expectation that she wanted to _run_. Instead, Ochaco planted her face firmly on the counter of her desk.

"Again?" Momo asked and Ochaco lifted accusatory eyes at the vice class president. The girl was possibly the most guarded of their girl-group, but she had been steadily opening up and letting her personality show.

She should be above this, Ochaco sighed internally.

"Ochaco, what were you _doing _this morning?" Jiro questioned, a small, gleeful smile on the earphone jack girl's lips. Now, Jiro, she expected this from - the dark haired musician thrived on pushing buttons.

"Nothing!"

Across the room, she could see a few of the boys looking over at them. Kirishima and Kaminari had mystically lowered their voices for the first time in two months and she cringed internally. But it wasn't until she caught the red eyes of Kastuki Bakugo that she knew she was going to melt away into nothingness right here, right now.

He was watching her with his usual scowl, but she could see the amusement in his eyes as he idly spun his cell phone on the surface of his desk.

Oh, he was good.

"Leave her alone," Tsu piped in. "Class is about to start."

As if on cue, a sprinting and freshly bandaged Deku burst through the door seconds before Aizawa strolled in begrudgingly.

Ochaco straightened in her seat, sharing a glance with Deku. He smiled before taking his own and she looked up to her teacher, tucking her phone away in her bag. She'd text Iida at lunch.

And her parents. She hadn't gotten a text from her mom when they'd made it back, but she was sure they were just exhausted and rushing back into work.

"Let's get started," Aizawa said to the class. He presented them with their offers for their internships and Ochaco beamed that she actually had a few agencies that wanted her. Iida's name was on the list too and she wished she could have celebrated with him.

Deku didn't have a single offer and she felt a sting in her chest for him. She looked over to him, but he'd buried his head in his crossed arms at his desk. In front of him, Bakugo was leaned back lazily in his seat staring at the list of offers on the board with something worse than the rage she'd seen from him at the festival.

He'd received the second most offers, after Todoroki.

She wasn't brave enough to dare say that he looked sad, but there was definitely something in his eyes besides his typical fury. She turned back in her seat, not ready to accidentally make eye contact with him again.

Had he heard the girls' discussion of her having a boyfriend? Did he think she told them anything? Why did she care?

"Moving on," Aizawa spoke again, clearing all of their heads of the upcoming internships. "Today I'm feeling generous and giving you all a head start at this afternoon's hero class."

"A hero class so soon after the festival?" Kirishima blurted out.

Kaminari rubbed his temple. "Yeah, don't we get any rest around here?"

"Suck it up," Bakugo barked at them. "If you can't keep up, leave."

"Surprisingly well said," Aizawa said, his eyes dragging with exasperation. "This afternoon's training will be a social one."

Cheers sounded from Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, and Toru while an uncomfortable silence spread throughout many of the others.

"You will be in pairs. I'm graciously giving you your pairs in advance, so you'll have more than enough time to form a strategy. However, I won't reveal the nature of the training until this afternoon, so be thorough and creative," Aizawa lectured and the students all looked on, stupefied.

He clicked a button that changed the screen behind him. "The duos were created by combining a more socially inclined student with another that prefers independence. Do what you will with this information. I'll see you all after lunch."

Ochaco felt the blood rushing to her face as she read through the list.

**Iida + Mineta**

**Ashido + Sato**

**Midoriya + Todoroki**

**Hagakure +Tokoyami**

**Ojiro + Koda**

**Kirishima + Jiro**

**Sero + Shoji**

**Uraraka + Bakugo**

**Yaoyorozu + Asui**

**Kaminari + Aoyama**

. . .

Ochaco walked to lunch with Deku, who fidgeted nervously with the dressings on his arms. The restlessness was not helping her own anxiety about being partnered with Bakugo, but she wouldn't admit that.

A few students had found their partners and headed off to lunch together, though most of them seemed about as rattled as she felt. There were the few lucky ones who were already friends with their partner and didn't seem to mind the brief change in company for their lunch period. Sato was smiling softly beside Mina who was currently talking his ear off as they turned into the cafeteria. Sero and Shoji had already somehow made it through the line for food and were discussing something that seemed serious - battle strategy most likely. Kirishima was laughing at something Jiro said as he took the bowl of food from Lunch Rush and waited to pay.

"I'm sorry you ended up with Kacchan, Uraraka," Deku sympathized, finally dropping his bandaged arm and taking a look at his surroundings. "He's… not all bad."

_Wish me luck against the old man's cane._

His smirk as he'd left last night had been completely disarming and she chuckled at the memory of his wit over the drunk on the bus. Maybe she knew that Bakugo was not all bad, however that did not make being his partner any easier.

She remembered going up against him in the Battle Training at the beginning of the year - his blind aggression had been ruthless and Deku's trip to the infirmary had been proof of that.

But hey, she thought idly, at least they were on the same team this time.

Then she remembered how well that thought had probably worked out for Iida and she cringed as they joined the lunch line behind a group she recognized from the General Studies track.

She watched the crowd as they moved closer and closer to their lunches, searching for her other classmates and slowly realizing that everyone seemed to be taking this hero class seriously so soon after the Sports Festival. Everyone was sitting in their pairs now, even Iida and Mineta, the former of which was currently lecturing the latter with more chopping motions than usual.

She smiled at the scene, glad that Iida had rejoined the class and seemed to be in well enough spirits. She would have to talk to him later.

The moment they received their food, Todoroki appeared behind them, his own tray in hand. Deku jolted at the unexpected sight of him, his soup rocking in its bowl as he steadied himself under Todoroki's impassive stare.

"Do you want to go somewhere and strategize?" the son of Endeavor asked, his bi-colored eyes skirting between her and Deku awkwardly.

She should have smiled and said something cute to dip out of their conversation politely, but her nerves were shot. Between yesterday's events in the festival, the strange aftermath with Bakugo and her parents, and now facing a challenge against the rest of her class with Bakugo as her only ally, she was rattled. Why hadn't they given them a few days off to recuperate?

Ochaco stalked away from them too quickly and when she heard Deku call something after her, she did not turn around. Her eyes fell on her only hope of avoiding the inevitable loneliness of lunch, the door to the courtyard. It's long glass window was the only thing she could see, as if the walls and the people crowding around her were closing in.

She just needed some fresh air, she told herself. She was fine.

A handful of others had decided to sit outside as well, despite the dreary sky above them. With its looming shadow thickening the air with unshed rain, Ochaco found a seat beneath the closest tree with the fewest onlookers. She set her tray in the grass, dew clinging to the blades as if it was still early morning. Chewing her lip, she avoided facing the tension in her chest that reminded her of her life before UA. There had been a time when she'd eaten many lunches alone, but those days were over the moment she'd applied to UA's hero course. She wasn't the girl she'd been then - wasn't going to push the people around her away. She was going to be a hero.

Never mind the fact that she'd just dramatically walked away from one of her best friends and was sitting alone outside.

She pulled her phone out, avoiding the dark turn her thoughts were taking.

Both of her parents littered her recent calls from the last few weeks and she called her mother first, only to reach her voicemail. Switching to her father's name, she pressed and listened to the dial tone until the automated voice sounded in her ear for him too.

She sighed.

Typing out a quick text in a group message to them both, she finally put her phone away not even in the mood to scroll through social media only for it to buzz almost immediately. She crossed her legs, leaning over them in a hunch as she retrieved her phone once more.

**Am I doing it right?**

She stared at the message for longer than she should have, not recalling the random number who had texted her instead of her parents. That is, until she felt, rather than saw, the threatening aura of energy that seemed to follow everywhere Bakugo went. She looked up to see him standing over her expectantly and the text finally made sense.

A laugh bubbled out of her, despite her efforts to hold it in. Maybe he really didn't understand how to have friends.

"Yeah yeah, Cheeks," he said offhandedly, and not nearly as amused as she was. "Laugh it up."

She did. The bark of the tree scratched her back and she shook in low giggles. She straightened her skirt over her pale thighs, flicking away a piece of grass that left a green spot on the hem as she settled herself and looked up at his scowling face.

"Are you really trying that hard to be friends with me?" she asked him, holding onto a light tone despite her memories of their embrace the night before. The ghost of his lips on her skin sent a fervent chill to her bones and she shook somewhere deep in her ribs, but even still, she knew who she was talking to — who he was.

"Isn't that obvious? Or do I have to send that in a text too?" he retorted, his eyes relaxing, releasing the creases of his scowl even as his mouth still curled as he scoffed at her.

She felt herself smiling up at him. "Why, though?" she pressed him.

"Why _wouldn't_ I want to be friends with you?" he bit, his frustration twisting his words as the spilled out. His hands were in his pockets, per usual, with no lunch anywhere to be seen.

Ochaco pressed her lips into a line cheekily and looked around a bit more than necessary. "Oh, I don't know? Maybe, because you literally hate everyone?"

He rolled his eyes extravagantly, matching her dramatics and pulled out his phone typing furiously.

Her phone buzzed in her hands, a new message popping up in the conversation still open on her screen.

**Well, I don't hate you. **

Ochaco's head knocked back against the tree that had failed to guard her from outsiders as the flood of feelings poured into her, like shaken fizz desperately trying to break the seal of its bottled prison. No, _no. _This was not how she was supposed to feel about _Bakugo_ . This was the boy who'd beat her down in front of the entire country, who'd constantly beat down one of her best friends, and who terrorized anyone who got in his way.

But this was also the boy who had carried her groceries and cooked with her mom and ran his knuckles across her cheek before he kissed her so softly…

Why couldn't she help the feeling that her world was turning upside down?

She sucked in a breath so deep, she'd wondered for a moment whether or not she could stop it. Crossing her arms and blowing a stray hair from her face, she said, "Well, are you gonna sit down or what?"

His returning smirk was slow and satisfied.

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm really enjoying flirty asshole Bakugo and his headstrong ways along with confused and jaded Uraraka who is still harboring so much trauma deeeeeeeep down. Any guesses on who the POV was on the last chapter? I'm sure you'll see him again soon, but I know he'll be seeing Uraraka sooner.**

**Thank you all for the faves, follows, and REVIEWS! As always, they are so much appreciated and really keep me motivated. **

**I'm really hoping some of you will have guesses on what exactly is happening beneath the surface of my cute little fluffy pair. **

**Let me know what you think in the reviews!**


	5. Supernova - Ansel Elgort

Katsuki Bakugo hadn't bothered to memorize the list of pairs for the hero training this afternoon. There was no need to - these extras would do all that meaningless work for him when they inevitably broke off into their duos at lunch. He wasn't a human encyclopedia like fucking Deku, but he wasn't stupid. Awareness of the competition was a vital part of combat, one that he'd learned way back on the playground.

Some called him a bully, and, well, maybe they were right, but he considered it research. Who would step up? Who would back down? Who ran and who fought?

Deku always fought him. Every goddamn step of the way, Deku stood up when others fled or hid behind him, disguising themselves as allies as if that would be the only way to escape his wrath. It annoyed the living shit out of him. Fucking Deku - always putting himself in the line of fire for the sake of others and only shrinking back when it came time for the kid to fight for himself.

It was one more observation tacked in the back of Bakugo's brain.

Sure, there were times when his fury and adrenaline got the best of him, but there was a life ahead of this school that wouldn't go easy on them. It was survival of the fittest, and if his fucking class couldn't see that after the USJ incident, then why were they even bothering to parade themselves off as the next generation of heroes?

He hadn't come here to make friends or to play nice.

He'd come to UA to be the best.

So as he sat beneath the shelter of a tree in the lunchroom's courtyard next to Uraraka Ochaco, he began to question what exactly he was doing _here_. She ate beside him with quiet bites, her back pressed against the rough bark. She drew her crossed legs straight out in the shade and set her tray on the lap of her skirt. The out-of-place feeling in his throat had kept him from retrieving his prepared bento from his bag that sat in the moist grass beside him.

"So," she said finally, breaking the silence and offering him an opening to gather his meal. "Are we going to get a plan together for class?"

He hadn't really thought of it. Between observing the pairs spread throughout the cafeteria and searching for Uraraka, his mind hadn't been looking very far ahead.

What was she doing to him?

He'd fallen asleep feeling the taste of her on his lips, remembering the way she'd pressed her body against his and how he just knew he'd seen disappointment in her eyes when he'd told her he was leaving.

Girls had dared to approach him in the past. He was aware of the way he looked, aware of the side effects of puberty, but it was a thing he hadn't had the time or energy to give any focus. The girls he'd known in middle school were childish - their plans and visions amounted to nothing on his spectrum, and he couldn't find any worth in anything they might have to offer.

But he was sixteen.

He knew what a pretty girl looked like and he wasn't immune to his eyes being occasionally drawn to the pull of the fabric of their shirts, or the stems of their legs curving up beneath their skirts.

He just didn't care.

But seeing Uraraka turn her big, accusatory eyes toward him, he felt differently.

"Hn," he mumbled, opening up his lunch on his crossed ankles. "You already know there's going to be some stupid catch, so why bother?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, and her brow furrowed, highlighting her tiny nose. Fuck, it was cute.

He grumbled as he finished chewing. "Why would Acuvue pair everyone based on personality if that wasn't going to be a part of the training?"

"Well," she started, thoughtfully looking over his shoulder and back again, "for us to focus on our teamwork, I would think."

"We're always focusing on our fucking teamwork, Cheeks," he scoffed at her. An upper-classmen couple emerged from the cafeteria and investigated a spot to picnic, deciding against getting their uniforms a bit wet and returned indoors. "Think outside the box," he finished, reaching for his next bite.

She chewed her lip, gears turning behind her bright brown eyes. Bakugo told himself he wasn't staring.

"Okay," she agreed eventually. "Then how can we prepare?"

"We can't," he answered, his voice sharp. "We just have to be good enough to figure it out as it comes."

Uraraka eyed him, a strange look darkening her gaze. "And what about the competition? What if we're fighting against the others?"

His mouth popped open unbidden before he snapped it shut. "They're mostly worthless," he explained. "Shitty hair and Goth Bitch are a terrible team. Motorhead and Gumdrop Perve will focus on speed and slowing down the others. Dunce Face and Princess will be complete chaos. Scotch Tape and Six Arms would be a worthy fight if either of them possessed a strategizing bone in their bodies," the words rolled out of him the same way they'd entered his mind as he'd walked through the lunchroom.

Packing away his bento box after practically swallowing his own cooking in one inhale, he moved against the tree beside her. Pressure rested lightly in his chest, knowing that she was watching him. "As long as we can out-react Ponytail, Frogger, Icyhot, and Deku, we'll be fine. Easy."

She huffed, the motion rolling through her and moving her close enough that their shoulders touched. "Easy," she repeated.

. . .

His dad had designed his hero costume.

Technically, they'd designed it together, but it had been a feat for his father to convince Bakugo to sit down with him long enough to go over the detailing required to create the thing. His parents had built an at-home business into an up-and-coming empire. They thrived in the space between needle and thread, but he could never relate.

However, they'd taught him well, and in the end, he didn't regret the day with his dad that created the beast of an outfit he was now proud of.

Rolling his neck, he searched the small crowd assembling in Kappa Field. Class 1A was enrapt in the newest setting for their hero course, all curious whispers of theories and judgments. Bakugo couldn't care less. A metal wall ascended above them, so high that he could barely see the top. It spread as wide as the structure they'd taken their entrance exam in. Flickering anticipation crackled in his gut and his palms as his eyes fell upon the grand double doors that would lead them inside.

Uraraka caught his stare at last. Saying one last thing to her frog friend, she turned toward him. Something deep in his chest warmed at her leaving her friends to come to his side, igniting a new kind of craving.

"Ready?" she asked him, her voice perking more than he'd expected it to after her anxiety at lunch.

Crossing his arms clad in his grenade gauntlets, he eyed her hero costume. "Always," he promised her.

She was so pink. How could anyone be so pink? Her outfit bubbled - literally - around her, shockingly managing to leave her figure curved and untouched. She grinned up at him in a way few rarely ever had, offering him the desired cleansing of tension that her presence seemed to gift him. For the first time, the thought struck him of whether or not she felt a similar effect around him. Obviously, he was about as relaxing as a roller coaster, but did Ochaco at least find some of the pleasure of being around him that he found with her?

His fingers itched inside the gloves beneath his bracers. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but as he watched their bedraggled teacher take a spot in front of the class, he wanted to win this training even more.

"Alright then," Aizawa started, dry eyes scoping out his students as he dropped a large, dark sack beside him. "Today, you will all be racing through a maze to answer a citizen's call. They will provide you with a new challenge upon your arrival, which you will be graded on, before returning back to me here. There will be no combat permitted within the challenge or the race."

A few of the extras hands shot up, and Bakugo took a centering breath, remembering who stood at his side to keep from bristling at their impatience too much.

"Sensei, how do our partnerships come into play?" a less eager than usual class president spoke first.

"Yeah, yeah," Aizawa answered, sharing in Bakugo's frustrations. The pro-teacher opened his bag as he explained, "You will be traversing the maze in your duos." He held up a familiar ribbon of fabric, akin to the layered scarf-weapon around his neck. "Both partners must have one end of their cloth tied to their person at all times. Separating will equate to disqualification and, therefore, failure."

This was _perfect_.

Aizawa held out a hand full of clippings of his binding cloth as the students all approached to snag themselves one. Some judged the lengths before accepting the limitation, but Bakugo snatched the first one without a thought. The distance separating them wouldn't matter.

The weight of his gauntlets and heavy, shock-absorbing boots disappeared as his eyes landed on Uraraka. She was not-so-confidently waiting for him where he'd left her side moments ago, but where her smile had fallen, he returned with his own to replace it.

"I, uh," she began mumbling, and he quirked a brow. "I know you're faster than me, but, uh, I can make myself float, and you can, uh," she stuttered out, and Bakugo's smile faded.

"You think I'm going to drag you through a maze?" he bit. Her face flushed pink, and he felt a bizarre aggression like he wanted to shake the cuteness out of her.

"Well," she said, looking down at his shoes. "I don't know how else I could keep up with you so we could win."

He picked her chin up with a finger, ignoring the blur of his classmates beginning to tie their cloths around their wrists and ankles in his peripherals. "I'm not going to drag you anywhere."

"But," she started, before he cut her off, the thrill of a challenge stretching a smile across his face.

"I'm going to carry you," he declared. "And we are going to fly."

She was less than thrilled about his full idea, which only put a mild damper on his newfound enthusiasm. The others were all lining up at the starting point just beyond the gate, Aizawa moving off to the side. She was a ball of nerves, staring at him like he'd grown a second head, but she hadn't said anything.

Uraraka looked over at their competition, all connected along some part of their limbs. Shitty Hair and Headphones connected at their ankles while Icyhot and Deku had, more wisely, chosen to knot their cloth at the thickest points of their calves. Even Motorhead and Purple Balls had tied their rope around their wrists, even though the engine block was wearing the small fry like a backpack.

Bakugo removed his gauntlets and tied himself around the waist, their smaller strip of fabric not even the length of his arm when he'd finished. To her credit, Uraraka never questioned his idea out loud - never doubted him.

"C'mon," he encouraged her, opening his arms. "Before they get bored and start looking around."

She stepped up to him with another bout of a blush. He wrapped the remaining length of their cloth around her waist, pulling her as close to him as she'd been the night before in her apartment. With the knot finally resolute between them, he dipped his chin to look down at her. Big, brown eyes met him in the breath of space between them and damn - he wanted to kiss her.

But there were more important things going on right now - namely, winning this shit.

"Ready?" he asked her, mirroring her words from the moment she'd walked over to him.

She nodded almost imperceptibly, avoiding knocking his chin with her forehead. He reached for her wrists, pulling her hands up around his neck. Grabbing her waist was the best kind of deja vu, and he whispered to her, "Okay."

With a hop, Uraraka wrapped her legs around his hips, and he moved his hold to the upper curves of her thighs.

"Tighten the knot," he ordered her softly. Her fingers left the base of his neck, diving between them to secure them together, no distance between the wrap around them both. When she reached over his shoulders again, he let his grip on her fall away. Sure enough, she was completely and totally attached to the front of his torso.

However, her face was in full blush-mode and refusing to look at him.

"Hey," he barked, and she finally turned. Nose to nose, he felt his own heat rising in his ears as he settled one arm around the small of her back. "Relax. We're gonna kick their asses."

She nodded again, and her muscles did seem to ease up against him as he made his way over to the rest of them.

Aizawa gave no sign to start, but the opening of the massive double doors felt good enough for the class. They stampeded through the mouth of Kappa Field, which turned out to be a giant iron maze. Bakugo made no move to follow after them just yet, instead pressing his fingers into Uraraka's ribs.

Her palms fell flat on the skin that connected his neck and his back, and his weight left him. The pads of her fingertips whispered away as his muscles twitched to move - to test out this new space of strength he'd never considered until they'd been paired together for this.

"Hold on," was the only warning he gave her before reaching back and exploding them forward.

He'd kept the blast on the smaller side, testing the boundaries of his newfound weightlessness. However, had Uraraka applied her quirk to both of them instead of only him, they would have definitely crashed into the first wall of the maze, ruining his entire plan from the get-go. The others blurred beneath them as they launched into the corridor of steel, though he knew Uraraka was not looking at them. Her form welded to him at their speed, and he could feel her face pressed firmly into his shoulder as he twisted through the air.

Using her weight and a few side explosions to maneuver, he finally touched down with both boots on the wall he'd definitely almost planted them both into. Launching off again in an instant, they indeed _flew _through the maze until a creeping frustration at the potential of being lost sent his fingers into her ribs once more. Her forearms shifted on either side of his neck just as he ricocheted them off another metal wall.

"Release," she whispered amidst the rush of wind and he felt his weight tugging him back toward the ground beneath them.

They tumbled. Bakugo tucked his legs as they rolled through the air, keeping his eyes on the landing he knew they would have to learn to make. He waited… and waited, until finally signalling for Uraraka to use her quirk. This time, she pressed one hand to his skin and her other hand atop the first.

They halted mid-fall before she released them and his feet landed seamlessly beneath them.

"We have to be first," he ground out, checking for any of their classmates over both shoulders. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the sounds of crushing ice and stretching tape, but no one was in sight.

"Why don't we just take a shortcut?" Uraraka offered, making him instantly aware of how close her mouth was to his ear. He tried to turn toward her and she reared back against his forearm. In response to his curious look, she pointed up.

His mouth parted.

Why hadn't he thought of that?

A wicked smirk stretched across his features and he was pleasantly surprised to see Uraraka's countenance darkening alongside him. "Let's fucking do this," he told her, more energized than ever. She waited for the firm touch of his fingers on her ribs before pressing her finger-pads onto his back. With a quick crushing of his arm into her back, she tightened her hold on him so he could let go.

And rocket them both straight up.

The difference between his usual propulsion of his quirk and his current weightlessness was stark and tantalizing. Every blast had to be precise, instead of powerful to send them the direction he intended for them to go, and he revelled in the test of control. They soared up the iron wall, higher than he normally ever needed to go, before finally breaking the top.

Almost as astounding as his speed, was the fact that Uraraka seemed to understand what he needed her to do with her own quirk with his every touch. They flew skyward and he tapped her. She released. They fell. He tapped her. They both levelled into a casual float above the maze walls.

The view would have probably been incredible had Bakugo cared to look beyond the ground. With the smallest burst he could manage, they drifted toward the center of the maze until she jerked him backwards, pointing.

"There!" she shouted, despite being directly beside his ear.

But he didn't complain. Firing off a blast he tipped them into reverse and she naturally released and reactivated her quirk on him as they dipped and spun back into the maze. A stack of yellow-blonde hair was there, waiting at a dead end.

And there were no other students to be seen.

Before they crested the wall beside Present Mic, Bakugo touched his fingers to Uraraka's side and she released him. He steered their crescenting descent before firing a final explosion to send them straight down on their grammar teacher. This time Uraraka intuited his intentions once more, activating her quirk to cushion their landing a few feet from the pro.

"Wowza kids!" Bakugo's least favorite teacher shouted much louder than necessary. "That was fast!"

Uraraka squeezed his middle as he felt her switch up her crossed ankles behind him. He re-secured his arm across her lower back.

"What's the challenge?" Bakugo growled. "Hurry up, we gotta go before everyone else catches up."

"Alrighty then folks!" Present Mic announced to an invisible audience as he whipped out a camera on a tripod from behind his back. "Interview time!"

Fuck.

Why the _fuck _would this be the challenge? What a pointless hindrance… the things they could be doing to _actually _get stronger instead of talking to a _fucking _camera…

"I see you two are looking _cozy_," the teacher leads. Bakugo's lip twitched with something fierce along with a bizarre desire to shield Uraraka's blush he knew would be blooming at any moment. "So, tell us, Uraraka: What's it like being teamed up with the roaring winner of this year's Sports Festival?"

Prickling fury lit in Bakugo's chest as he readied himself to tell his teacher to fuck off, but Uraraka didn't miss a beat.

"There's a reason he won," Bakugo heard from his shoulder. "He knows what he's doing."

The Sports Festival was a blight on his record, as far as he was concerned, but hearing her speak of him so highly… He'd never heard anyone vouch for him in that way - as if he was more than just ruthless strength.

The thought produced a tingling awareness of how many places they were actually touching each other.

"Wow, what a review!" Present Mic's incessant voice pressed on. "And Bakugo, you're known for your perpetually terrible efforts at teamwork, yet here you are all cuddled up as a well-oiled machine. What changed?"

Some sort of dark, guttural noise stirred in his throat as he prepared to rip off the head of someone who dared to talk about him like that, with a camera on him no less, but a gentle hand wove into the hair at the base of his neck. He turned to see Uraraka watching him with pleading eyes. She wanted to win this part of the training too.

He couldn't fuck it up for her.

"Our quirks work well together," he said simply, hoping the sentence came out less irritated than it probably did.

"Awwwwwwwww," the pro-teacher drawled out and Bakugo winced. "Compatibility is an important part of duos and it's obvious the two of you have that in spades!"

Okay, fuck what Uraraka wanted. He was going to fight a teacher.

"Can we expect a change in relationship status after class, ehh?" Present Mic prodded and suddenly Bakugo wished he wasn't tied to Uraraka so he could drop her to take a blast to the loud mouth's face.

"Um," Uraraka spoke up, quelling his fiery intensity yet again. "Can we go now?"

"Yes, yes-"

But they didn't hear the rest of whatever the fuck he was going to babble on about now, because Bakugo launched them straight up. They moved slower than he was growing used to until Uraraka's finger-pads pressed into his neck. With only her weight to assist him, he guided their flight up and above the maze once more, only coming down when Aizawa was in their sights. They passed over groups of the class who were oblivious to them so high above and Bakugo grinned at their victory.

He'd meant what he'd said to Present Mic.

Their quirks worked together better than he'd ever thought possible.

They landed with his mind still spinning on what they might be capable of when she would be able to move about freely. If he could figure out a way to share his quirk with her the way she could share hers with him, they could be unstoppable…

"Well," Aizawa said, seemingly unimpressed as he clicked the stopwatch in his hand, "that was unexpected."

Their names appeared on a board that hadn't been against the wall when they'd started.

Uraraka + Bakugo - [00:06:14]

They'd demolished the other teams and he knew it. Pride rippled off of Bakugo in waves and he felt the need to destroy something, but a shift in his arms stopped him.

"WE DID IT!" Uraraka beamed, digging her fingers into his shoulders. She stared at him like he'd just handed her the world and for the first time, he realized she hadn't finished first since her infinity score in the softball throw on the first day of school. He felt one side of his lips tug up his cheek as he watched her celebrate. She reached around his neck and squeezed him into a hug that made him hold his breath.

"Thank you," she whispered into his ear.

He was glad the others were still lost in the maze. "Couldn't have done it without you, Cheeks."

"Cute," Aizawa deadpanned as Uraraka loosened her hold. Bakugo moved his hands to her waist and lifted her weight away from him so she could release her legs. He'd grown used to her height in his arms, her new shortness a novelty. She quickly untied them, first freeing herself before she focused on the cloth still attached only to him. Her fingers fiddled above the waistband of his costume's pants and he resisted the urge to rush her with all the crackling energy her in this position gave him.

"Uraraka," Aizawa called as she finally held the unbound cloth in her hand. "You've been summoned to Principal Nezu's office immediately."

Her lips parted in surprise, and Bakugo noted that she hadn't made an attempt to put any distance between them.

"Bakugo, if you will accompany her back since I can't leave the class," Aizawa half-requested, half-demanded.

Bakugo didn't respond, instead looking to Uraraka who had gone pale.

"Yes, Sensei," she replied, looking up at Bakugo as if trying to speak to him with her mind.

Well, he wasn't getting it.

Though he did feel the urge to reach out for her hand, though he set that aside as a lasting effect of how close they'd been for the training.

When she headed off back toward the school, he followed, tucking himself in the spot just behind her at her side. He watched the way her hair swished with every step and tried not to eye the small of her back where his arm had been for much of the exercise. He itched to touch his palm to it, to remind her that he was here.

But what purpose would that serve?

Being around her was an entirely different experience that he found more frustrating than anything he'd had to learn with his quirk. He'd always done whatever he wanted and yet with Uraraka there was a foreign blurring of the lines of those desires.

He liked her.

He knew that much. He wasn't stupid.

But what did that mean - if anything at all? Because, no matter what he wanted, when it affected another person the lines couldn't be as stark as he was used to in his previous life - his life before Uraraka had fought her way into his mind. He couldn't just do whatever he wanted. He had to actually think about what she wanted too.

Which was blindly annoying.

Infuriating.

Because that meant he was now over-analyzing every stupid thing. Would she care if he had approached her with her frog friend earlier? Had she minded his plan to literally tie her to himself in order to win the hero training? Did she want him to touch the small of her back as they walked back to school - or maybe hold her hand?

Stupid. He was so fucking stupid.

He couldn't bear to spend another minute in his head like this.

"We should do that again," he heard himself tell her.

She hitched a step, her hand brushing against his as she fell into step at his side.

Fuck me.

"Do what again?" she asked with wide, incredulous eyes.

"Train together," he said as if it was obvious. What else could she be thinking of? A flash of their kiss in her apartment came to him and he gnawed at his lip, remembering how hers tasted.

Oh yeah, there's that.

"Oh," she started, and for a moment he thought she was rejecting him. How could she not see how great that was? "Okay."

"Okay?" he countered instinctually.

She looked up at him with a small smile accompanied by his favorite blush. "Yeah, I said okay."

"Okay," he said again awkwardly.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and by the time they reached Principal Nezu's office Bakugo was wondering if any of the other nerds had made it out of the maze yet. Uraraka knocked on the door meekly and Bakugo crossed his arms as he waited behind her.

The small, mouse-bear-dog thing opened his office to them with a narrow smile. "Uraraka, please come in. Bakugo, thank you for escorting your classmate. You may return to your classroom until everyone returns from Kappa Field."

Yeah, right. He was going to head straight back to see how well everyone else compared in the maze.

But the door opened a little wider, revealing a policeman holding his cap with both hands. A rock dropped down Bakugo's throat. He looked to Uraraka who was turning from the officer to meet his eyes.

"C-can Bakugo stay?"he heard her ask their principal. Her voice was lined with the same trepidation he felt in his gut and this time when he felt the need to reach out and touch her, he did.

The mouse looked between them. "I think that might be best, actually."

Principal Nezu led the two of them into seats before his desk and Bakugo kept his palm against her back. When they sat, she didn't bother worrying about moving their chairs beside each other. She sat as close to his side as she could and instead of over-thinking why she would suddenly be the one trying to stay near him, he placed his hand on her knee closest to him.

The officer shifted on his feet as Principal Nezu crawled up into his chair.

Her hand fell on his and he squeezed, her finger-pads pressing into his palm.

"Ochaco Uraraka," the officer said. "This is about your parents."

* * *

**Author's Note: DUN DUN DUN.**

**I swear to GOD I did not mean to make this chapter as cute as it definitely fucking was, but wow yeah here we are. I loooooove writing as Bakugo.**

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**Something I've noted to my friends who help with brainstorm this fic is the way I'm trying to portray Bakugo. I understand he's not perfectly in character to the screaming dickbag of fury that he is in the anime, however instead of focusing on his rage, I'm attempting to focus on his will. He is not his anger. He is his drive. He doesn't care about what anyone else thinks. He just wants to be the best and he wants to do whatever he wants. So when he finds he has a surprise crush on Uraraka, he doesn't give a fuck about what anyone else might think about it. He just likes her. **

**Which is so freakin adorable. I'm screaming. **

**Anywayyyyy let me know what you think of this one! I am so grateful for all the support in the form of faves, follows, and (my personal favorite) reviews! **

**And keep the guesses of the mysterious plot elephant in the room coming! wink wink **


	6. Paradise Lost - Hollywood Undead

_Kill them. _

_The woman is pretty._

_Police are coming! Police are coming!_

_No, they're not. Shut the fuck up dumbass._

_Leave their bodies in the alley over there._

_They'll get DNA from the cigarettes moron!_

_So take them away._

_Boss will be so mad. _

_But! Boss will have a plan!_

_My sweet love will be jealous._

_No, no, she'll want to stab them to death. _

_Oh, right._

His quirk carried the couple in the depths of night, through the puddled rain on the dips in the paved alleyways. Their limp bodies hung over his shoulders, bouncing with heavy unconsciousness against his back.

_Fuck. _

_You're so stupid._

_No, you're so stupid!_

He turned, a sharp jumbled mess of a turn with his quirk activated and wreaking havoc on his mind. Uraraka was still inside the apartment and so was that _boy_. He'd thought that he only had to worry about the green-haired one that always walked her to and from school, but no. That boy had never stepped foot inside her apartment. And he would know if he had.

There was never a time when she was completely out of his sight.

Well, aside from school.

Which must be where this god-forsaken relationship with the vile blonde started. He was seething. She had never had this many friends, never been in a relationship. What about this hero school made her suddenly want to be miss popular?

But how could he blame her? Who wouldn't want to be close to her with those big, endless doe eyes? She was flawless, from the ever-present color of her cheeks to her bright smile and adorable nose. How could she not stand out even in the school for the best of the best?

And now he had her parents incapacitated and on the run.

He'd need to find a way to spin this to her to make sure she knew that she was his first and only priority. She was smart. She would understand. Surely.

_She's gonna be so mad. _

_Nah, what kid likes their parents?_

_I liked mine._

_No you didn't!_

He thumped himself on the head as he made another turn, water splashing up onto the leg of his pants. Boss was going to have to get involved. That was a terrible idea, but he already knew what outright killing and abandoning in an alley would get him. Now that he was apart of something greater than himself, he knew he would have to be more careful. Though, he'd already been, uh, less than careful in the first place so maybe this wasn't a great idea. Or maybe he was just doing damage control. Yeah, that was it. Damage control.

Her father groaned over his shoulder and he knocked him in the temple again, just to be sure.

Voices sounded outside the mouth of his current choice alley and he managed to freeze with his quirk, waiting and waiting until the bystanders disappeared from his hearing. He took off again, replaying the map of the alleys he'd memorized in his mind. He was almost there.

_What's your story?_

_What story?_

_Why do you have two corpses with you in a secret hideout?_

_They're not corpses!_

_Not yet._

_Whatever. _

Plan. Plan. Plan. He needed a plan. Boss wouldn't be happy about this.

Breaching the surface of the poorly lit main road, he kept to the wall as he finally slid toward the door of the old boarded up bar. A quick entrance was difficult with his quirk and the two bodies in tow, but not impossible. The street was mercifully vacant and the warmth of the dim bar lighting was a momentary relief from the pressure of his run through the night.

A few of the others were assembled, the boss sitting with a condensated glass at the wooden bar. He dropped his unplanned guests from his shoulders, letting them crack onto the floor with a heavy thud. All eyes turned to him.

Fine. This was fine.

Totally normal.

"What the actual fuck, dude," the bored voice of his only longtime friend in the group spoke first.

"Ah, well, you see, there were some, uh, unforeseen circumstances today," he answered at the speed of light, his quirk dizzying them all with its chaos as he oriented himself to the hideout's somewhat cramped space.

His tall friend rolled from his shoulder to his back against the wall, his black hair gleaming in the warm light. "You weren't even on a mission today."

The purple fog man had stopped wiping down glassware behind the boss who he _thought _was looking at him, but honestly it was hard to tell. The guy really needed to look into a barber.

_Wait maybe that's why he doesn't get a haircut._

_Because he can't find one._

_Because he can't SEE._

_Shut up._

"Well, hmm, you could maybe, uh, call it a little private investigating?" the words rolled out like a hyperactive question.

Shit shit shit. He hadn't really thought about just how frowned upon this might have been. But what other option had he had really? Killing them and leaving them behind would have granted quite a bit of unwarranted attention and he at least knew _that _would be very not okay with the boss.

His friend only rolled his eyes, unimpressed. He drew back his chin, tugging at one of the stitches across his jaw. "You were following that girl again, weren't you?"

"Girl! What girl!" he yelled, his voice a boom ten times louder than his friend's had been. But c'mon, that guy is always just mumbling ominously so whatever.

"I should verify he wasn't followed," the magician one said from the lone table off to the side. He rose, confirming his plan with the boss with a glance. "You should really leave the more elusive tasks to the professionals," he chided him as he wove through his quirk to the door, widely stepping over the unconscious bodies of Uraraka's parents.

"Hey, I was the picture of stealth!" he defended.

"Yeah," his old friend chimed, voice low as he observed the effects of his quirk still activated throughout the bar. "I'm sure."

"What," the gravelly voice of the boss said, "have you done."

"He's stalking this high school girl," his old friend offered to which he returned with a glare.

Clenching his fists at his side, he turned on his old friend. "I am not stalking her! I am… _pursuing _her." His declaration was met with a lack of patience and skepticism. "I'm protecting her! And I know that I could take care of her and she would love me back if she just got to _know_ me, but it's just so _hard._"

His old friend dipped his head as the magician reentered the bar. "I doubt that a UA student is really in need of your protection."

Fuck. This was not going to plan. But, on the bright side, no one had really mentioned the unconscious bodies still draped haphazardly across the floor, so maybe he would get out of this with less than a punishment. Though he still needed to decide what to do with them. He couldn't exactly return them, but they might have not really seen him in the dark? No, no, he had to kill them. Plus it would be two less people out of the way of Uraraka's attention.

Then he only really needed to find a way to get her _out _of UA and away from the green-haired boy and _especially _the feral blonde from the Sports Festival.

And bam.

She was all his.

"UA?" the boss drawled against his whispering rasp of a voice.

Blood suddenly gushed to the floor as his quirk started to self-destruct. He reached the butt of his palm to his forehead and tapped against it, letting the carnage begin. It would be over soon enough. Yeah, yeah, soon enough he would feel all back to normal.

"We're clear," the magician informed the group, narrowly avoiding stepping into a new puddle of blood while ducking away from his quirk turning on itself.

"Yeah," his old friend said, with less than hidden distaste for the boss. "She's some kid in the first year hero course."

Something about that touched a nerve. The boss picked up his glass, sipping softly and making eye contact with purple haze guy. Well, he thought they made eye contact. Between the purple guy being a giant cloud and the boss' lack of a haircut it was hard to tell. The boss dragged his free hand across the bar, pulling off two small pieces of paper between his fingers. Turning toward him, the boss held up two photos.

"Do you know these two?"

He'd seen both snapshots in person actually. Both had come from today. A feeling of calm swelled through him. Perhaps it wouldn't be so hard to get the boss on his side after all.

The final wisps of his quirk finally faded away with muffled gurgles, spilling the last bit of necessary blood to disappear entirely. The oncoming stain approached the bodies of the girl's parents and he kicked them away from the dark liquid little by little. Didn't want to cause a scene or anything.

"Yes!" he announced, stepping over the parents to approach the boss. "That one," he pointed to the too familar green head of hair, "walks her to and from school every morning. They talk too much together and she's almost taller than him. I _think _he has a crush on her, but he should really have figured out by now how out of his league she is. I mean, come _on_."

The boss didn't comment on his gathered information. Instead, he put that picture back face up on the bar and held out the remaining. "And this one?"

His gaze darkened. "Her new," he chewed on the word, desperately wanting to hold it in, "_boyfriend_." This seemed to gain a little interest from the boss who leaned back in his stool. "He was who I had meant to capture today." He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "Not those two."

"Oh my, you've stolen her parents?" magician guy said. As if he would be genuinely appalled. Tch. He does more sinister things before breakfast.

"Hmm," the boss hummed.

"Yeah, well, what happened was, uh, I was, you know, just looking out for her and you guys saw what he was like in the Sports Festival! He would definitely mistreat her. So, uh, I was just going to, you know, _talk _to him. But they went into her apartment together. _Alone_. Who knows what he could have been doing to her in there?! And he's just a boy, I doubt he has any idea what he's doing with a girl and Uraraka deserves _so _much better, so I-"

"Dude," his old friend interrupted. "Get on with it."

"Oh, okay. So, yeah, I waited to, uh, _talk_ to him when he left, but, uh, these two came out instead and I was maybe a little _too _prepared to, uh, _talk _to him so yeah," he said, trailing off as if the rest was obvious. Apparently, though, he was still being a little too scattered for them to follow. "I wasn't going to just let them see me about to attack them, but I've definitely already been in enough trouble for leaving dead bodies in alleys so I needed an alternative plan and brought them here!"

With his trapeze act of an explanation finished, he looked around at the group… who all seemed less than impressed.

Fuck.

But the boss was on a single track. "So the girl has close ties to these two?" he asked, his finger flat on both pictures against the wooden counter.

He nodded enthusiastically.

The boss twined his fingers together in his lap. "Interesting. And these are the girl's parents?"

He nodded again and his old friend scoffed against the wall behind him.

A pause filled the room and he wondered where the boss was going with this, although he couldn't help but barely care as long as he got away with his reckless behavior. But, c'mon, everyone would have done the same thing had they been in his shoes, right?

Of course they would.

"Compress," the boss ordered. "Put them away. We'll need them later."

Oh shit. Could it be? Could he have actually done something to help further the boss' plan without even trying? Wow, he should get a promotion or some shit. Wait. Was he even being paid for this? He'd have to ask his old friend when the boss wasn't around.

_Idiot._

_Wait, you're still here?_

_Of course I'm here. You're here._

_That doesn't make any sense._

_Yes, it does. _

"As for you," the boss said, returning his attention to him. "I have a message for you to send."

. . .

"Say, that went well!" he chirped beside his old friend whose steps were slow and even instead of quick and twitchy like his own.

His friend crossed his arms in the cool night air. "You're just lucky your fuck up played into the boss' currect scheme."

He shrugged. "Tomato, potato, or whatever."

His friend rolled his eyes. They were strolling through another network of alleys, probably a little too close to dawn, but the boss had an eagerness about their delivery that just couldn't wait apparently. A few more blocks to go and then they would be separating.

"Not sure why he felt like you had to come along just to deliver a letter, though," he commented.

His friend threw him a side-long glance. "Maybe because you decided to spend your free time collecting hostages."

Hmm.

"Yeah, maybe."

The intersection that would divide them came upon them and his friend turned toward the high school. Supposedly there was a certain _grace_ and _tact_ required to getting so close to UA that he didn't possess, so instead he was veering off to the right. His feet could find Uraraka's front door in his sleep, so in the end he hadn't minded the mission in the end.

Choosing to take a route a little closer to the bus stops than normal, he found himself watching the passengers unload. He wondered what their lives were like. Did they have loved ones as perfect for them as he was for Uraraka? Did they know Uraraka? Maybe he should ask one of them…

No, no. He was on a mission.

But then striking green hair stumbling from the last step of the city bus stopped him in his tracks.

Well, well.

Maybe the odds really were in his favor lately.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hello again! **

**I hate to admit, but the stalker chapters are SO FUN and pretty easy to write tbh. This chapter should give you a better idea of who the stalker is... though I haven't decided when I want to completely out him. **

**What's really funny to me is that when I started this fic, I had zero plan. I just wanted to express my newfound love for Kacchako and wrote the first chapter with no plan, just rolling with it as I went. But after the random inspiration to write Bakugo's POV in the next chapter I started to get pretty engrossed and now I have this wild plot going on and yeah. I'm into it. **

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**Oh and: poll time. Should I change my summary of this fic to reveal the creepyness? Or just leave it the way it is so people can be surprised like y'all were? Alternative summary would likely be something like... "Bakugo realizes he has a crush on Uraraka after the Sports Festival. Uraraka is just trying to outrun her past. And a "friend" watches nearby, ready to show Uraraka what she really deserves, by any means necessary." Let me know in the reviews!**

**.**

**I love crawling into Bakugo and the stalker's heads... they're a blast to write (lol didn't pun bakugo on purpose) and I'm looking forward to the emotional story Uraraka is going to go through as her past comes to light and what that means in terms of her friendships and goals as a hero and newly blooming relationship with Bakugo. Sigh.**

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**Let me know what you guys think! I am so grateful for the love on this. It's so motivating. Please review! I love hearing your thoughts on this fic!**

**.**

**Next chapter is back to Uraraka's POV!**


	7. Paralyzed - NF

How had Ochaco never noticed how small Principal Nezu's office was?

It was so small. The walls so still. Furniture growing, crushing her.

Her fingers squeezed in someone else's grip and her eyes darted down. She'd almost forgotten Bakugo was here. How could she have forgotten Bakugo was here?

"I am so sorry," the officer repeated, rotating the brim of his uniform cap in his hands.

Oh, yeah. That's how.

Principal Nezu shifted in his seat across the desk uncomfortably, his usually sunny disposition clouded. The officer stood over his shoulder, the light from the solitary window at his back casting a sharp shadow around his nose.

The words floated through her mind, bounding limitlessly around her over and over again. If only she could release them with her quirk, if only they could crash and burn into specs of nothing as if none of this was real.

But it was real.

_You're parents are missing._

UA was supposed to be a fresh start for her - a safe haven. This was where she would unlock her potential, showcase the strength she'd been tirelessly growing all alone since the incident two years ago. This was where she was going to actually have friends again, have a life at all other than the quiet work under her parents' shadows and relentless anti-gravity training. This was supposed to be her becoming.

But she should have known better than to have thought she could outrun the darkness that crept just beyond her every smile, every friendly conversation.

She was haunted, cursed by a soul so twisted she couldn't bear to picture his face outside of the nightmares she couldn't escape from even after two years had gone by.

He had come for her.

After all this time, he had come for her again.

"Steps will be taken for your safety as the investigation continues," the principal said, paws on his desk beside neatly piled paperwork. He dipped his head toward Bakugo. "You'll both be the first to learn that we will be implementing a new mandatory dorm policy."

"No," Ochaco tried to shout, but the sound came out small. "You don't have to do that because of me."

Nezu offered her a consolation smile. "You, unfortunately, are not the only student who has been targeted in the last twenty-four hours. After this and the USJ incident, along with the perpetrator of your previous encounters still on the loose and Midoriya's run-in this morning we cannot be careless," he said, pulling his paws together. "Either way we couldn't have let you return home alone."

Ochaco's chin fell. Everything had been going so well. She'd stood on her own in the Sports Festival. She'd made friends with everyone in class. Her studies could use a little work, but she wasn't close to failing anything. Her and Bakugo had just destroyed the competition in hero training only minutes ago.

Wait. Midoriya had encountered a villain this morning? When he normally would have been walking her to school…

No.

_No._

"I have to go home," she heard herself say. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she should be putting up more of a fight - screaming maybe, or even crying - but something about this devastating loss seemed such an inevitability that she couldn't bring herself to. "All my things are there."

The policeman cleared his throat. What was his name again? He'd said it earlier. She couldn't remember. "Actually, your apartment has been taped off for now."

Taped off?

Like the alley had been two years ago.

Oh. _Oh._

"B-but you said you didn't-" she felt her lip trembling.

The officer was quick to elaborate. "Your parents are only missing. Technically it hasn't even been the twenty-four to forty-eight hours required to constitute them as missing, but after your," his eyes shot to Bakugo and back to her, "_past_, we felt the need to investigate as soon as their employees called in that they'd never gone back into work."

To his credit, Bakugo hadn't said a word.

She'd expected him to make some snotty comments about her asking him to stay in the first place - something about her being a baby and needing hand holding. Instead, he'd been quick to stick to her side, remaining quiet and attentive. Their win had been one of the most glorious things she'd ever felt. Was that what it felt like to be like Bakugo all the time? To feel like you're _flying_.

So when she'd asked him to stay it had been more of a reflex after how close they'd been, literally tied together to blow away the rest of the class. That, and once she laid eyes on the officer she couldn't bear the possibilities that had come to her mind. She hadn't seen a policeman look at her that way since…

She couldn't do it. She wasn't strong enough.

So the feral Sports Festival winner, eternal bully of Deku, infinite short fuse that was Katsuki Bakugo now sat beside her as her world fell apart.

Again.

"They had pre-purchased tickets for a bullet train last night, but never boarded. Their last known whereabouts are your apartment, so it had to be sealed for the sake of the investigation," the officer continued.

Oh god, her apartment was a crime scene.

And her parents…

She eased toward Bakugo, whose shoulder returned the pressure as if offering itself to her should she need it. Her hand trembled atop of his, her thoughts drifting in a dangerous direction.

What had been happening to her parents while she was kissing Bakugo in her foyer?

She blinked away hot tears.

"You said they left your apartment just after nine, correct?" he pressed, but she felt like his questions were becoming a hand around her throat.

_His_ hand.

"Yeah," Bakugo answered for her and she almost collapsed against him. "I left half an hour later and there were no signs of anything unusual outside."

"The porch? The stairs?" the officer pressed.

Ochaco's vision blurred.

"No," Bakugo answered, his voice steady. "Nothing."

"Alright, I think that's enough questions for now," Principal Nezu interjected before the policeman could open his mouth again. "Officer Toyaru, thank you for coming. If you need to get in touch with any of the students, please continue to go through me."

Mercifully, the officer took this as the dismissal it was. "Call me if any of you think of anything," he said with a dip of his head to Ochaco and then Bakugo and Principal Nezu before finally leaving with a soft click of the door.

"Now then, as for the dormitory situation," the principal started, shifting in his seat once more. Only his head could really be seen beyond the massive desk. "Construction should be done within the next day or two in which time we will be notifying the parents of the rest of the school. The hero course students will be the first to move in for safety purposes, starting with you."

She could hear the question coming. She dreaded it.

"Do you have anywhere you could stay until construction is complete?"

No.

She didn't have any family but her parents.

Her parents who were missing.

Because of her.

The room felt small again, tight against her chest. She squeezed her hand unconsciously, drawing on the solid force that Bakugo turned out to be. She'd have never thought his unbreakable nature would come around to her this way.

"She can stay with me."

What?

Principal Nezu cleared his throat. "I'm not sure that would be entirely appropriate."

"Fuck that, we have spare rooms," Bakugo growled, but his shoulder stayed easily beside hers.

"Language," Nezu chided.

Bakugo's upper lip twitched. "Whatever. My parents wouldn't care and it's only for a night. And," he paused, sliding his bright red eyes over to Ochaco, "if she wants to. I don't think that she wants anyone else to know."

What was going on with Bakugo lately? Her theory of him being a clone returned with full force. Out of nowhere he was being so nice to her and now… He seemed like he understood how private this was. _Bakugo_ was picking up on social cues - respecting privacy?

But she wouldn't argue. He was right.

She'd made it a mission for UA to be a fresh start. None of her friends knew anything about that day two years ago. None of them knew what crept in the shadows of her past, and now, apparently, her present. None except now Bakugo.

At least, somewhat.

More than anyone else.

Principal Nezu sighed and looked to Ochaco.

All she could do was nod, meeting his eyes under heavy, wet lashes.

"Okay then. Get your parents on the phone to confirm and you'll both be dismissed. Otherwise, I'll find you a teacher who can offer you a temporary place to stay until the dorms are complete," he told them with all authority as he pulled a cell phone from a drawer in his desk.

Bakugo turned sharp eyes on her, but when she looked up they were surprisingly gentle. He pulled his hand away from her slowly, watching as if he feared she would crumble without his strength. She wanted to punch him for the theoretical thought, but he wasn't that far off.

He retrieved the phone from Principal Nezu and stepped out of the room.

Two days ago all she'd been worried about was making her parents proud in the Sports Festival. This time yesterday Bakugo was destroying her in the ring and all she could think of was getting back up. She had to get back up. Her father was watching.

And then last night she'd fallen asleep remembering the touches of a boy she hardly knew. She'd replayed the sensation of his kiss over and over again until it filled her dreams. All the while, what had become of her parents? Her dad who worked tirelessly beyond his limits to put everything he had into his daughter's education? Her mom who endured hardship after hardship while still keeping a smile on her face and remembering to text her daughter for goodluck before every test?

They'd never boarded the train.

So they'd always been in reach. She could have saved them. She could have prevented… this.

All this hero training and she still hadn't been able to save what mattered most to her in this world.

Bakugo reentered the room with his phone to his ear. The voice on the other end was so loud, she'd thought he had it on speaker at first. "Yeah, yeah," he said, annoyed. "Just put dad back on to talk to the principal."

More loud shrieking from the phone.

"Oh my god, put dad on the phone!" Bakugo shouted this time. He didn't wait for a confirmation before crossing the office and handing over the phone. Coming to sit back beside Ochaco, he huffed. "They said it was fine," he whispered to her as Principal Nezu lifted the phone to his animal-ear and started to respond.

She didn't say anything back to her new blonde friend. What could she say?

Thank you?

Thanks for entering my life the moment it imploded? Thanks for deciding to have a single nice day in your life just in time for me to dump the disaster that is mine in your lap? She shouldn't even be accepting his help, especially when they barely knew each other.

"Okay then," Nezu broke the silence, pressing a key to end his call and returning the phone to its unseen home. "Masaru has assured me that your family has the required accommodations for you to stay with them until the dorms are fully prepared as well as agreeing to your own participation in the dorm program, Bakugo."

Bakugo grumbled something under his breath, shifting his weight beside her. He leaned toward her and she found herself leaning back into him, grounding herself.

"The rest of your class should be returning now. Aizawa should be informing you all of the new dorm situation before final dismissal wherein I will have one of the teachers waiting to escort you both to Bakugo's home." Bakugo opened his mouth at this, but the principal cut him off with a wave of a paw. "This in non-negotiable. A teacher will also escort you back in the morning. This will go on until you are both securely moved into the dorms."

"Fine, whatever," Bakugo muttered and she could practically hear the profanities sparking off in his head. He stood abruptly and extended a hand. Ochaco stared at it for too long before realizing he meant for her to give him hers.

He knew more than the others, more than she'd ever planned for anyone at UA to find out about her past. And despite that, and the fact that he's _Bakugo_ he still stood by her side, reaching out. At least, she assured herself, if there was anyone who would possibly prefer to keep her business to themselves, it was him.

She placed a shaky hand in his and rose.

Her blood drained, tiny lights flickering behind her eyes and she gripped him harder than she'd meant to. When was the last time she ate? Oh yeah, with Bakugo just a few hours ago. How had he become so entangled in her life?

He wrapped her hand in his firmly and led them from the room. She should have said something to Principal Nezu but she couldn't find the words. All she could think about was where her parents were and how tight Bakugo was squeezing her fingers as they made their way down the blank hall. It moved around her, whirring by as if she was standing still and the floor was gliding her forward.

When the world stopped spinning, she realized Bakugo had stopped them both. They were in front of the locker rooms. She turned to him in question, still feeling so far from words.

"We're still in our costumes," he explained, glancing over at the door to the girls' room. "They seem empty, so the other morons are either already back in class or still out at Kappa Field."

She just nodded and eyed the door.

A quick pressure on her hand had her turning back to Bakugo's waiting eyes. "I'll be quick and I'll wait for you here," he assured her. "Don't make me be the creep who has to fucking go in there and drag you out."

She nodded again, but this time with a little more energy.

Right. Change. She could change alone.

He released her hand and she felt like she might float away.

What if _he _was here somewhere? What if he was waiting for her in the locker room? What if he had been here the entire time? What if UA hadn't been enough to keep him at bay? What if he was waiting for Bakugo? What if he was trying to take Bakugo away from her? But what if he wasn't here at all? What if he was with her parents? Hurting them? Torturing them? What if they were suffering at his hands while she was just standing here, staring at a wall?

Strong hands grabbed her shoulders and turned her. She blinked away tears to see Bakugo glaring at her from above.

"Do you want to just go? We can get the fuck out of here," he promised her in a low timber.

But the idea of leaving, of being anywhere beyond the security of the gates of UA right now… was nearly unbearable. So she shook her head, swollen with the cries she was refusing to submit to, and moved for the girls' locker room. Bakugo's lingering eyes were a pressure at her back, but she made it inside just fine. Her bag was in the same place it always was and he was right that the locker room was empty. But the more heartbeats that passed while she was alone, the quicker they came.

She raced into her school uniform, clumsily packing her hero costume back in its case refusing to let the thoughts of just who could be watching her all alone and defenseless enter her mind. Practically sprinting from the suffocating room, she slammed into a wall of muscle just outside the door.

"That was fast," Bakugo noted.

_You were faster_, she wanted to say, but she couldn't make the words come out.

He held out his hand and this time she took it without pause. He led her back to their classroom in silence, his head cocked and aware of their surroundings. It was a habit she remembered him having yesterday after the Sports Festival. She hadn't realized how much it gave her peace.

Because even though the Bakugo she'd always known was a completely malicious asshole, he was also a villain's worst nightmare.

The thought was bizarrely calming.

He stopped again and she assumed they must have reached their classroom, but the halls were dizzy in her vision. Bakugo set down the case that held his hero costume and reached up to her cheeks with his thumbs. Calloused fingers swept away the tears she hadn't known she had shed before his palms pat her face on both sides with enough force to pop open her eyes.

"They're gonna notice," he whispered under his breath. "Ready?"

When had Bakugo become her protector?

She nodded, sniffling.

He slid open the door and she watched him share a pointed look with Aizawa who continued on in his lecture without pause. She didn't bother to keep a distance from Bakugo, only parting from his back when she had to break away for her seat. Keeping her head down at her desk, she felt the questions and concerns that swelled in her friends and classmates.

Aizawa was telling the class about the dorms, but she couldn't listen. All she could do was focus on not looking over to Bakugo like a lifeline and accidentally making eye contact with Deku. That and not crying. She wasn't crying again, was she?

A thickness filled the room and she wished she would have taken up Bakugo's offer to just leave. But the thought of where she would go left her feeling empty, drained of all the life she'd poured into herself since the beginning of high school. She tethered herself to the reminder that Bakugo had been there, he knew, and he wouldn't tell. Leeching strength from the winner of the Sports Festival could keep her in place.

For now.

Aizawa finished, it seemed, though she only noticed because of Iida turning in his seat.

"Uraraka, what happened? Are you alright?" he probed innocently and in the corners of her vision she saw Deku and Momo heading her way.

Tsu stood from her chair with Toru approaching her shoulder, the girls' concern a blur in her vision. "Did something happen with Bakugo, kero? You're crying," her best girl friend pointed out.

It had been easier when she hadn't had any friends, when she hadn't had to worry about anyone else's feelings or how her crumbling life might affect anyone else. Her vision tunneled, thoughts of the alley two years ago coming to her mind unbidden.

"Oi, that's enough," a sharp voice barked and like a light at the end of a tunnel, the crowd of her class parted. "C'mon, Cheeks," Bakugo said as he shoved between Mina and Kirishima who had apparently come to her side as well. He held out a hand and she took it greedily, begging to be as far away from attention as possible.

She thought she heard a gasp and some whispers, but he was already leading her from the room.

* * *

**Author's Note: I legitimately had no idea that would be quite so sad. **

**A big thank you to the reviewers who read every chapter! You guys are the best. sgtwist & ElinorSinclair ... so much love. Thank you both for your comments on my writing style. It's my passion and my art, so I really pour my heart out even when writing fanfiction so thank you for that. I also find them adorable (obviously) and ship them SO HARD (also obvious). And stick around for the stalker stuff... I think it's going to end up pretty cool if I do say so myself. **

**I wrote this chapter and the previous stalker chapter SO FAST. Heavily inspired for the hilarious stalker antics and the heavy emotions of a triggered Uraraka. Now onto Bakugo's take on this whole ordeal... **


	8. Oblivion - Bastille

Literally, what the fuck.

Katsuki Bakugo was not a comforting person. In fact, his presence typically required for others to seek out comfort _because _of him - not from him. He was usually the instigator of intimidation, but this…

This was nothing like that.

He begrudgingly followed an eerily quiet Cement Head to his car with a barely conscious Uraraka in tow. She'd retreated somewhere into that round head of hers the moment they'd sat down across from the mouse guy and the cop, not seeming to be capable of resurfacing any time soon. His stiffness at how out of place he'd been was completely overlooked by the scale of their news for Uraraka, a fact which somehow meant nothing to him.

He just kept seeing her face when they'd won the maze training - her bright eyes and the way she'd hugged him and whispered thank you.

And then, in an instant, all her joy was sapped from her bones. She'd trembled against him, her hand fluttering in his and her shoulder quaking beside him. He hadn't missed the parts of the meeting that mentioned her _previous encounters_ and whatever had happened to her…

It was bad.

Her fear was palpable, uncontainable, just like her tears. She hadn't cried, hadn't shrunk away from whatever it was that was terrorizing her so much, and yet the tears had leaked from her eyes like she couldn't contain anymore pain in her small body. He'd thought of her pressed against him, rolling into his touch, sharing his kiss - of her laughing at his jokes and blushing at tying herself onto his lap.

And then to see her hiding from her friends, curling herself inward to avoid their plague of attention.

It just… It didn't sit right with him.

Which is why, he decided, he needed to stay with her at all times. Well, as much as he could. He wasn't going to freak on her when she wanted to be quiet and he wasn't going to cater to her like she was a broken doll. Not to mention, he definitely wouldn't mind taking a crack at whoever had inspired such a reaction from the girl he liked.

His eyes shifted to her as Block Head unlocked the car large enough to fit his massive form inside. She was watching him already, her hand - now free of her bag that he held alongside his own - was wrapped around his wrist that led to their intertwined fingers.

He wasn't sure how dating was supposed to go, but he had never been one to second guess himself. Did everyone who dated feel emotions this intensely? No wonder they were all bumbling lunatics. Because he was pretty sure if this girl asked him to blow up the moon right now, he would find a fucking way.

The rear car door opened with a springing tick and he pulled her toward it. Ambling inside monotonously, she crawled to the center seat and waited for him to clamber in beside her. She was a statue, a frozen version of herself as their math teacher pulled the car out of the gates of UA and onto the road toward his home. Rearing back, he stretched out his legs, letting his knee press against hers and she fell into the touch. Her head dropped on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around herself.

And those extras had wanted to bombard her with their selfish questions.

Fuck 'em.

Friendship in itself wasn't an entirely abhorrent prospect. Bakugo understood the potential that lie within allies, however he'd quickly learned how frivolous partnerships grew to be. They demanded time and attention outside of what was necessary to grow stronger, become better. Any _friend_ he'd ever - almost - had always wanted to become best buds and waste _so _much time with their games and all their talking. And anytime they felt the need, they'd call upon him to give up his own plans and energy to help them. They'd only proven a hindrance or a liability.

Tch, but then there was that goddamn Shitty Hair.

It had crossed his mind that maybe he'd just been surrounded by a pool of peers that didn't share his goals - didn't understand what his future meant to him.

He was going to be the best.

So there was a _small _possibility that someone in his league could stand to prove as a worthy alliance, but the proof had yet to stand.

However, he couldn't fathom the bubbly nature of the girl currently using him as a pillow. It just seemed so… exhausting.

And yet he couldn't deny that he'd only felt stronger from the moment he'd stepped into Uraraka's waiting room after their match in the festival.

Fuck, what was happening to him?

She was really screwing with his head. He'd always been so entirely forward minded, but he'd never predicted he would catch feelings. How was he supposed to look ahead now? Would he always want her by his side? There was no intelligent way to know. He could only be sure that he liked being around her now, so the rest would just have to remain to be seen.

Not to mention the fact that he had no idea if she felt the same way about him.

After witnessing her fall apart before his very eyes, it was entirely understandable that she would lean on him - literally. They'd been partnered together by Dry Eye. He'd been the obligatory choice to walk her back to the school to meet with the police. He'd seen the color drain from her face when she stepped into the mouse dog's office. She would have asked anyone to stay with her for support.

Right?

Or had their kiss the day before meant as much to her as it had meant to him?

A soft breath hung beside him in a whisper of sleep and he found himself strikingly grateful to see her be able to rest.

Their kiss had been a curse in his mind since the meeting. If he'd have left any sooner, would he have seen anything? If he'd have left alongside her parents, could he have saved them?

They'd definitely have fared a much better chance, that much he was certain.

What if he could have prevented her current state?

What if he'd caused it?

The logic was flawed, he knew, but he couldn't help himself. He'd created a web of newfound emotion inside himself the moment he'd decided to reach up and touch her blush yesterday. He'd chosen to give in, to follow his instincts, and to let whatever it was that drew him toward the bright light that was Uraraka take up camp inside him.

This was the result.

And while he allowed the guilt of his own selfishness take root, he also couldn't find it in himself to be sorry.

Fuck, he was so full of shit. He needed to get some training done and get all of this _out_.

The car pulled to an easy stop at the curb of his parents' two story house and Cement Block actually got out to walk them to the door. He would have blasted the asphalt square of a teacher across the yard if he wasn't more focused on waking Uraraka. Her eyes tugged open and she mumbled something incoherent like, _five more minutes_.

Fucking hell.

"C'mon, Cheeks," he said roughly, pinching her face in one hand. "You can go back to sleep inside, dummy."

She stirred at last, scooting across the backseat to step out of the car. He still didn't trust her to walk completely on her own after shaking like a leaf in the meeting so he held her hand again, dragging her along beside him.

Rock Face opened his mouth to say something, but Bakugo lifted a hand. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you tomorrow. Whatever," he snapped and reached for the door.

The quiet was infinitely too good to be true. He couldn't hear the tv on in the living room. Couldn't hear the crashing of pots and pans in the kitchen. Couldn't hear his harpy of a mother's voice on the phone from anywhere in the house.

It was suspicious.

Bakugo pulled Uraraka's bag up onto his shoulder with his own as she eyed his place, the spark in her eyes dull.

Her cheeks were pale. He hadn't seen a hint of a blush since they'd stepped foot in the principal's office. The observation unsettled him as much as his mother possibly being silent for five seconds of his life.

It just felt _wrong_.

He towed her toward the stairs and she followed willingly, but when they reached the halfway point, he halted. His parents stepped up to the top of the stairway, folded laundry in his mother's arms. They looked… calm.

What the fuck was happening to his life?

"Katsuki," his father started. "This must be Uraraka?"

His mother shifted on her feet, eyeing the silent Uraraka who had crept in close to his back, peering at them over his shoulder like a frightened puppy. She had apparently decided to become a mute.

"Why don't you settle her in your room?" his mom offered and his face went slack. Where were his parents and who were these people who had replaced them?

He became suddenly aware of the fact that he was holding a girl's hand in front of his mom and dad. "Uh, sure," he managed, still waiting for his mother to revert back to her typical volume. But as he ascended the stairs once more, they made way as he led her into his room.

It was safe to say that if he'd ever pictured bringing a girl into his room, this was not how it was going to go.

She followed him blindly and he didn't like it. He'd much rather her be following him onto the battlefield like she had during today's hero training. This… This was different. It unsettled something in his gut.

He brought her straight to his bed and she paused before setting herself down on its edge, her back stiff.

Fuck, this was awkward. "Just… snoop through my shit or something. I'm gonna talk to my parents real quick," he told her. And even though it felt wrong, he turned his back on her and walked back into the hall.

Where his parents were waiting just outside the door like fucking ghosts or something.

He pulled the door shut before letting them have it. "Okay, what the hell is going on here? Why are you guys acting like damn morticians?"

"Katsuki," his father repeated his name and he flinched internally. "Principal Nezu called me back to explain Uraraka's predicament a little more privately."

"So?" he challenged, his thoughts drifting to leaving Uraraka alone and he decided that was probably a bad idea. At least until she fell asleep again.

His mother dropped her arms and he recognized the laundry in her hands as some of her own clothes. "Your friend can stay as long as she needs to. He told us that she has no way to retrieve any of her belongings for the time being, so I thought I'd give her the option of a change of clothes."

Is this how Uraraka felt when he was being nice to her after the Sports Festival? Because, fuck, he understood why she was so freaked.

"I'm proud of you for wanting to help her," his father told him with a gleam in his eyes.

Bakugo frowned.

His mother handed him the clothes she'd chosen for Uraraka. "Now if you repeat this, I'll strangle you myself, but she can stay with you if you're comfortable with that. Either way, we're going to keep the house calm and our door open throughout the night in case she needs anything."

Did they know something he didn't?

He'd understood the severity of her circumstances… but for his parents to be so… _this_?

"Whatever, you guys are being weird as fuck," he scowled, seizing the clothes from his mom.

Who, in turn, whacked him upside the head.

"Katsuki, get your ass together," she chided him, whisper-yelling.

He snarled his lip and rolled his eyes, rubbing the back of his head.

She crossed her arms in triumph as his dad spoke up, "We'll make dinner, but you can take it up to her if she doesn't feel like coming down. Your teacher will be back to take you both to school in the morning. Just," he paused, and the weight of his father's stare fell upon him like cascading bricks, "let us know if she needs anything."

Okay, so they were definitely smoking something. Had to be.

"Tch, whatever," he answered, turning away from them. He hoped his steps didn't seem as hurried as he felt they were. His parents' freak show only managed to stir up a restless feeling in his chest that already wasn't feeling so hot at the idea of leaving her alone in the first place.

But when he cracked open his door, she was still sitting in the same spot. Her gaze had fallen to his favorite figurine of All Might, displayed just right on the corner of his desk.

Bakugo set his mother's clothes down on the desk, scrambling his brain for what exactly to say next. Manners? Right?

He cleared his throat and her eyes darted to him. "The bathroom is the closest door across the hall, if you need it. My, uh, my mom got you some clothes if you want 'em." A long pause of silence filled the space between them. "There's a guest bedroom next to mine," he said before stalling.

He was fucking Katsuki Bakugo. He could say this.

"But you can stay with me if you want to."

Too many breaths filled the silence before finally, painfully slowly, she nodded.

Which felt like a small victory - whether for her ascent or the fact that he'd gotten her to respond at all.

He rolled his shoulders and fought a yawn. Thoughts of their moment yesterday really had eaten up most of his sleep last night and he was feeling the after-effects of such a splurge. With conscious effort, he stepped toward her, settling himself down at her side on his bed. She wasn't shaking anymore, but her cheeks were still pale and her eyes still far away.

He would normally be training right now - out for a run or lifting weights in the garage out back. Or there was even a possibility he'd be with his dad in his work room, pouring over his latest commissions together as his dad explained the business and the perspective with which he worked from. They'd cook dinner together while his mom screamed at the television because of whatever team she was rooting for was either winning or losing - the noise level was the same either way.

But Bakugo couldn't think of a single thing that might be able to pull him away from Uraraka's side right now - not even a hero training. Well, maybe if the bastard who'd done this to her decided to grow the balls to show his face to him… Yeah, that would probably get him back on his feet.

He had never _tried_ to be comforting before.

Still, he couldn't help but think how alone she might be feeling — how he might dare say he would feel if his parents had vanished in a blink.

He wanted to blast something.

Sucking in a heavy breath, he moved a hand to her back, just between her shoulders.

A deafeningly quiet cry cracked the air between them. His heartbeat sped into something sharp and furious in a way that complimented the sob that rolled out of her tiny frame. Her hands pulled up to cover her face one at a time and he pressed against her back. She fell into him, her tears burning at the crook of his neck.

He wrapped his other arm around her. She wept for so long, he hadn't bothered to keep track of the time. As the minutes turned into an hour, maybe more, she'd slid herself up into a ball first curling beside him then in his lap before they'd finally resigned to lie down.

No, he didn't know how to be comforting.

But as she clung to his side, tucked beneath his arm, finally releasing herself from whatever place she'd crawled into all alone this afternoon, he would damn well try.

* * *

It was dark when Bakugo opened his eyes.

A soft pressure against his chest reoriented him to the shadowed room around him. Uraraka had one arm tucked into herself, the other draped across him, her fingers digging between him and the mattress. Her breaths were deep and smooth.

And his stomach was growling in a fit of rage.

Like, loud.

He flexed the arm curved around her back, rolling his head over to settle his lips into her hair.

She was going to ruin his life, wasn't she?

But even in his thoughts, the words were muted. He was glad to see her finally looking peaceful after today. He could feel the relief of her faded tension akin to his own.

Now, if only he could keep her that way _and _extricate himself to go get some food.

He started by pulling his arm off her back slowly, planting his hand against the firm mattress. Good. She was still breathing steadily. With less than sure fingers, he reached for the hand that wrapped around his ribs. This one would be tricky, but he didn't even want to think about how he was going to deal with her head yet. Grabbing her hand gently, he pulled at each of her fingers one by one, until he finally drew her entire arm away from him, back toward herself.

Which basically meant he'd now moved her hand from holding onto him to laying on top of him.

But it was an improvement he would have to accept.

His stomach roared again and he rolled his eyes into the back of his skull.

"Hn?"

Oh, fuck.

She nestled into his chin at first, before drawing up with hooded eyes to meet his waiting stare.

And damn him, he wasn't even sorry.

Because even in the moonlight from his thinly curtained window, he could see the blush creeping onto her cheeks for the first time since they'd flown together yesterday.

"W-was that your stomach?" she whispered into the dark.

He huffed. His arm curled back around her instinctively and he froze.

But she didn't move away — didn't tell him to stop.

So he placed a hand over her hair, letting it fall to those fucking cheeks. "Yeah."

"I haven't eaten," she said like it was a fucking revelation.

He only said, "Me either."

Her palm fell flat on his chest and he was sure she'd be able to feel his heart beating with those little finger pads of hers. "Can we?"

"Mhm," he hummed, taking in the full sensation of her wrapping her arm back around his chest, her head, heavy with sleep, falling back into his shoulder. "I'll go get us something."

She stiffened. "Can I come with you?" she murmured and he took note.

She didn't want to be alone.

"Sure thing, Cheeks," he answered, and though he had to force himself to break their moment, he couldn't bear to hear his stomach growl one more time. He rose and she followed, sitting up on extended arms beside him.

They pawed off the bed together, still in their uniforms and she reached for his wrist in the dark. He flipped on a light and she squinted up at him. They were still in their school uniforms.

"Do you want something to sleep in?" he asked before the awkwardness could creep up his throat.

She blushed again, sending a wave of victory through him. "Yes, please."

He dug through a drawer and pulled out the first t-shirt and a pair of shorts he came across — both black. He tossed the drawer until he found a white shirt and another pair of black shorts. Offering them all to her, she grabbed the white shirt and random shorts. "Turn around," he commanded, dedicated to making sure she was never alone if she didn't want to be.

Yeah, that was it.

Her blush remained, but she turned. They took up corners of the room to change with lightning speed before uncomfortably over-communicating when it was okay to turn around again.

He really wasn't that big of a guy, but his already oversized tee swallowed her.

And, well, it was adorable.

"C'mon," he ordered, pulling open the door. At the sight of the dark hall, he reached back a hand that she latched onto eagerly and he didn't bother to hide his smirk. He led her downstairs, only putting in an effort to be quiet because of how hard she was trying to tiptoe beside him.

There was a note on the kitchen island about leftovers in the fridge and he should have expected as much with his parents freakish hovering from earlier.

After barking at her to sit at the table, he took to reheating the dinner his dad had made before bringing two steaming plates over to her. Taking the seat beside hers, he dove into his food without a second thought. She blew down the heat for a minute before joining him.

"I should have introduced myself to your parents," she said between bites, her brow writtled.

Bakugo swallowed. "They know who you are."

There was a beat of silence and then, "Oh."

Bakugo stuffed his face, reveling in his dad's cooking despite being reheated.

"Did anyone say anything?"

He turned on her, curiously. "Who?"

She was staring at her food in between bites and he found himself glad to see she had an appetite. "The class."

He shrugged. "I know as much about that as you do, Cheeks."

She seemed to have accepted the nickname. It made him want to give her more. "Have they called or texted? I haven't checked my phone."

"Me either," he said, a few bites from finishing his bowl and he contemplated whether to make another. "Hurry up so I can make us another."

"They're gonna think you made me cry," she whispered to her spoon.

Bakugo pushed his dish away, resigned to wait for her to catch up before dipping back into the fridge. "They can think whatever they want. Doesn't change the truth."

That seemed to make her think as she paused, mouth open about to take another bite.

"Let's go, I'm hungry."

She frowned. "You don't have to wait for me to make more."

"I don't have to," he countered. "But I am. So eat up."

She needed the strength.

When she finally slurped the last of her midnight snack, he snatched the bowl away and marched over to the fridge. A comfortable silence stretched between them and he was actually itching for his second round of the late night dinner.

That is, until she said, "Why have you been so nice to me lately?"

He sucked in a breath, watching the first bowl spin in the microwave.

"Because I like you. Why else?"

There. He said it.

She could do with it what she wanted.

But even if she hated the idea of being close to someone like him, he would look out for her. Push her limits in training. Make sure she became the hero he knew she was capable of with that relentless spirit—

"Oh," she replied.

"Oh?" And suddenly he was back to their stupid conversation of a hundred 'okay's. He switched her bowl for his and set the new cook time.

"Like, you _like _me?" she proposed, incredulous.

He ran a hand through his hair. It had been too long since he'd exploded something. "Yes, I like you. Do you think I'd say it if I didn't mean it how it sounds?"

"Oh."

He was gonna snap.

"Why?" she added.

He turned to stare at her.

_Because in one day you lit up my fucking life. _

"Why can't I just like you?" he decided on instead.

He stopped the microwave before the final beep that would definitely threaten the silence of his mother fast asleep, apparently with her door open. Retrieving his bowl, he took them both back to the table and glared at the steam impatiently.

"How am I going to make it through tomorrow?" she said finally, long after Bakugo had decided to dig into his second helping.

He grunted and swallowed. "Don't worry about them so much. They can worry about themselves and mind their fucking business. You just think about yourself."

Big, brown eyes looked over at him. He set down his bowl and leaned back in his chair.

"You're right."

Yeah, I fuckin' know.

But instead of saying that, he mustered the courage that lingered from waking up with her in his arms and said, "And you've got me every step of the way."

Her smile was automatic and he felt himself smirk in return.

They finished the rest of their leftovers and headed back upstairs to his room. When they both crawled back into bed, she sought him out and curled herself around him once more.

Maybe this mushy shit wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

**Author's Note: le sigh. **


	9. As Long As You Love Me -Sleeping At Last

"Hey, kid," he called out, approaching a sprout of green hair with a bounce in his step.

The boy stopped in his tracks, turning from his early morning goal of U.A. He had freckles. Did Uraraka like freckles? No, she apparently liked hot-heads who beat her down on public television.

But he would show her something better. He could be kind. He could be attentive. He could be committed.

He really needed to just find some time to get her alone and explain.

The boy's wide eyes belied his naive nature and he grinned at the high schooler.

This would be easy.

"Let's talk, yeah?" he said eagerly, wrapping an arm around the boy's shoulders. What was his name? Had the boss said it? No… but he'd heard it during the festival. Izzy Dory something. Yeah yeah, that was it.

"Uh," Izzy stuttered, bracing against the new weight on his back. "Do I know you?"

The thought that Uraraka had possibly talked about him to the boy struck him with bliss. Had she still been thinking of him? Dreaming of him? Remembering their day in the alley all that time ago? Their shared glances across busy streets and crowded trains in the years since?

He smiled at Izzy Dory.

"You might've heard of me," he explained, rushed with excitement. "Uraraka could have told you about me."

The boy tensed under the pressure across his shoulders. "Uraraka?" the boy whispered, confused.

He hated the way her name sounded on someone else's tongue.

"I know you know her," he accused, tucking the boy into his side and eyeing the nearest alley diagonal to the one he'd emerged from. "You walk her to and from school every day. You know, bubbly? Brown hair? Beautiful?"

He wondered where she might be right now and he almost stopped in his tracks with the realization that she was probably home. She could be in her apartment. Alone.

Or with that spiky-haired punk.

A vile taste spilled into his mouth and he craved blood and action.

The boy had steeled himself, his gaze narrowing between the mouth of the oncoming alley and the road that would lead him to his high school. For the first time, he considered that it might not have been ideal for him to approach Izzy Dory this way, but, as usual, his passion for Uraraka had won out over common sense. Anything for Uraraka's sake was as good as common sense, as far as he was concerned. Izzy tightened his grip on his backpack, not making to move away.

"Y-yeah," the boy stumbled over his words. "I know her. She's my f-friend."

"Oh, I know," he rattled on. If he could just get the boy a _little _farther to some much needed privacy he could take this conversation to the place he really wanted it to go - unconsciousness. If the boss didn't mind him bringing her parents he would probably shit himself when he brought him one of the boys from his pictures. "I've known her longer, see? We go way back."

"I d-didn't know that." Izzy Dory dropped a hand to his pocket, falling on flat fabric like he was feeling for something. Something that wasn't there. Good, good. So his phone must be in his bag then.

"Yep," he confirmed to the boy. "She's just so great, you know? Of course you know. You get to sit in class with her every day, but that's okay. I see her every day too." He pulled his twitching free hand, riddled with gnawed stubs of nails. "Actually, I might have a few questions for you."

Izzy Dory's steps slowed beneath his arm as the alley came closer, but he didn't respond.

"Do you know her favorite flower?" he asked, his voice pleasant and strong. The few bystanders strolling up and down the block hadn't paused or stared, so he was doing alright. See, he could be stealthy. What did Compress know?

Still, with the alley looming steps ahead he remembered his vow not to get caught up in trouble murdering anyone in public locations like this anymore. He let the boy slow their pace while he racked his brain. Technically, he hadn't planned to _murder_ him… just incapacitate him.

_You're much bigger than him. It'll be no problem. _

_If you get caught boss will disown you._

_You never needed boss before. You don't need him now. _

_But my sweet is working with boss. I must stay with my sweet. _

_She just wants a reason to be close to her loves._

_Oh! She'd love Izzy Dory for a pet!_

_He does look kind of like a kitten._

He snarled before the boy could answer, shaking his head abruptly. His quirk was back, refusing to give himself a day's peace. Some were better than others, though he'd spent too much time out of his costume with Uraraka lately. It left a lasting effect.

_Let us out. _

_We can take him. _

_You should probably let the poor boi go. _

_What! Why!_

_Uraraka will be sad without her friend. _

_She has me!_

_No, me!_

His good mood was souring quickly and his opportunity to seize the boy was dwindling in his fingertips - literally. The boy's uniform jacket was crisp beneath his hand as he still held the much smaller frame into his ribs. His old friend would have surely secured his copy of the letter to the front gates of UA by now and that was one bad side he did _not _want to be on.

Another bus screeched to a halt behind them, letting loose a loud hiss of steam as its doors opened. He dipped a look over the boy's head to see most of its occupants clearing out and littering onto the pavement.

_Shit._

_You're so slow. This could have already been done. _

_I'm not slow! You're slow!_

_Is that your comeback for everything?_

_Well, it's true._

Fuck fuck fuck. Clear memories of the waves of people who'd witnessed his first meeting with Uraraka - who had called the police and attempted to step in - crashed into his mind. Maybe he really was reckless. Maybe he shouldn't have acted without more of a plan. Was that why Uraraka liked these boys?

He remembered her plan for a meteor shower of sorts. He watched the blonde one analyze the competition of each of his matches, adjusting his high powered fighting style to outwit them all. Could that be why they hadn't fatedly ended up together yet? Was he being too stupid?

Dropping his arm from Izzy Dory's shoulder, he shoved the boy away.

And to the credit of his own intelligence, the boy didn't run away like he'd expected. So there's that.

Instead Izzy leveled up, coiling his fingers into fists at his side.

"Who are you?" he growled, his once childlike eyes pressed into contention.

He reached into his pocket, not bothering to engage in the little punk's question. Pulling out a now-crumpled piece of folded paper, he held out the boss' letter. "Deliver this to her for me, yeah?"

Around them, people had started to let their prying stares creep in on the exchange. The boy took a few seconds of assessing him before finally snatching the letter from his greasy grip.

He took one step toward the boy. "And can you tell her that I miss her?"

Izzy Dory tensed, the paper in his hands folding further.

_Just hit him._

_No, no you might make him cry._

_So?_

_The alley is RIGHT THERE. Just shove him._

_You heard Dabi. No more hostages. _

_Right, right._

_Dabi's gonna be pissed anyway. Why not go for it?_

A businessman knocked into his back and the boy took the opportunity to gain some distance between them. With a look over his shoulder, he decided that he'd wasted enough time on Uraraka's little puppy friend. He clicked his tongue at the boy, shooting him a quick finger gun before pivoting into the crowd.

Izzy Dory took off for his school in a sprint.

* * *

**Author's Note: This is by far the shortest chapter I hope to ever post to this fic. My apologies. However, I suspect this will happen from time to time with the stalker's chapters because of all the fluff and exposition I intend to have in Uraraka and Bakugo's chapters. But I'll do my best to keep the stalker's filler chapters full of either relevant info dropping or some hilarious side antics, lol. **

**Also, since publishing this on ao3 I've decided to title the chapters with songs from my playlist I listen to while writing this. Hope you like that! I always love to get into the head of the writer and listen to their music while reading their fics, so I thought I would add that. **

**It gives me EMOTIONS. **

**Thank you for the faves, follows, and reviews as usual! The feedback makes me weep and keeps me motivated. **


	10. Silence - Marshmello

Ochaco Uraraka's life had been flipped upside down.

On a normal day like today she would still be in bed, blissfully unaware of the waking world around her. The alarm on her phone would go off four times. She would snooze each one until panic finally forced her from the unending warmth of her comforter. She'd race through basic hygiene and dressing with barely a moment to spare before Deku was knocking on her door.

But in her twisted new life, she was flat on her sore ass in Katsuki Bakugo's backyard before the sun was up.

"Let's go, Cheeks," he demanded, untouched in his fighting stance only steps away. "You're not going to make me waiting for you to catch up a habit, are you?"

She clenched her teeth, ignoring the burn of a scrape across her elbow, and rose again. Sparring hadn't been apart of her dedicated quirk training over the last two years. She'd, mostly, mastered her nausea and grown her range of gravity nullification, but hand to hand combat wasn't exactly a focus she'd taken to all alone in the country.

Which meant now, Bakugo was kicking her butt.

She charged him, knowing by now that he wouldn't go on the offensive during their little _play time _\- he'd so dotingly called it after she'd first shown him the limit of her fighting knowledge. He patted her away like a fly, rolling with a reaction time that kept her from blinking too much unless she wanted to miss a swing aimed right for her.

"Left your middle open that time," he reprimanded as he brought the edge of his flat palm to her ribs before shoving her away from him.

She licked her lips, gathering herself in a crouch before charging again.

Though she would never tell his inflated ego, he was actually helping her. He would point out the correct ways for her to stand, to punch, to distribute her weight, and even cover her weak spots all while simultaneously proving how behind she was in this arena. But, more shockingly than Bakugo helping someone, she was actually beginning to understand him. He preferred action over words and he wouldn't be taking the time to coach her had he thought she was beneath his efforts.

But then there was also the fact of his declaration in the dead of night.

Even with the added notion of Bakugo possessing _feelings_, she still couldn't brush off his kindness as something half-hearted or sympathetic.

Bakugo wasn't sympathetic and he definitely didn't approach anything halfway.

He'd woken her this morning to let her know he was going to train. The entire scene was a flutter of completely comfortable, yet completely unnatural confrontation. She could still feel the press of his arm around her back, the soothing rhythm of his breath beneath her head. Since when was she okay with cuddling with Bakugo? Sleeping in his bed?

And yet, after yesterday, she couldn't imagine putting up a fight.

When she'd asked to join him, she hadn't expected him to light up with a diabolical eagerness. After changing into the school's training pants she kept in her bag and tying a knot in his shirt she'd slept in, he was carting her outside.

"You've gotta be quicker," he noted, parrying her next punch meant as a sneak attack. "Gotta teach your reflexes to come second nature."

She spun with his momentum, rearing a kick aimed for his gut. But he wrapped both his arms around her, lifting her feet from the ground in a tight squeeze.

"You're way too slow right now to turn your back on an opponent, Cheeks," he said near her ear. A warm wave of an emotion she'd been avoiding rolled through her and she wiggled against his chest until he dropped her.

The criticism was nonstop, eroding away at her - but she couldn't help how his methods had woven their way into her head. He'd said _right now_ on purpose. He wasn't casting her aside - wasn't calling her too weak to ever become something.

And he wasn't looking at her with goofy eyes like Deku or Iida anytime she'd tried to present herself as a worthy adversary instead of just their friend.

If they had been in that meeting yesterday — if they knew what Bakugo did — there was no way they would be willing to fight her the next morning. And the exercise felt _so good_. It was as if each contact, whether with Bakugo or the ground, toughened up the parts of her that had crumbled away over the past two years.

She felt strong.

Despite everything crashing down around her, in this moment, she felt strong.

So, rather than pout, she turned on him. "How do I get faster?"

Bakugo smirked, relaxing his guard and throwing a loose arm over her shoulders. "I'll show you a few things I do, but first we gotta eat before our fucking cheaffeur shows up."

She found herself looping an arm around his waist naturally, basking in their new dynamic that she dared to say gave her a sense of ease. There hadn't been an update from the police or Principal Nezu when she'd checked her phone while Bakugo was changing earlier. However, there had been an influx of texts and calls from her classmates. At least half of the class had reached out to check on her and the pressure of going back to school was suffocating.

The missed calls from Deku, Tsu, and Iida had been the hardest notifications to swipe away, but she couldn't imagine explaining herself to them - it felt like another hurdle she'd have to give a piece of herself to in order to overcome. She just didn't have enough pieces left to give.

Dishes clanging in a hush met them inside and she felt Bakugo's arm flinch across her shoulders, but he left it in place. They stepped into the kitchen, coming face to face with his parents as the sun broke through the horizon in the window over the sink.

His father saw them first, rounding on her with a warm smile. "Hello there," he said, his voice gentle. "How did you-"

"Katsuki, god dammit - you took her training?!" his mom screeched from the stove. "Are you really that stupid?!"

Bakugo didn't flinch this time. "She fucking asked to come, Old Hag!"

"You're supposed to be taking care of her and you're beating the shit out of her?!" she yelled back without pause, moving to get in her son's face, but her husband stopped her with a stiff arm.

"I'm not supposed to be doing shit!" he countered, his tension tugging Ochaco into his side. "She doesn't need anybody tiptoeing around her like she's fucking tissue paper, so get the fuck off it! Aren't you supposed to be making breakfast?!"

His dad wrapped a hand around his wife's and she visibly simmered down. "Why don't you two get cleaned up for school and we'll all have breakfast together?" he queried.

"Tch," Bakugo ticked, dropping his arm around Ochaco and she did the same. He stalked toward the stairs and she followed after a moment of hesitation on whether she should introduce herself to his parents now. The idea that they'd just welcomed her into their home so easily was overwhelmingly heart warming. She would need to find a proper way to thank them.

Halfway up the stairs, Bakugo reached back a hand and she was starting to recognize the gesture.

_Because I like you._

When she'd first heard him, she thought there was no way he was saying it the way she thought he was saying it. No way. This was Bakugo. But, in fact, it _was_ Bakugo and even while confessing his feelings he was straight-forward and aggressive.

_Bakugo _had a crush on her.

As if the last two days couldn't be any more unhinging.

She placed her hand in his and let him lead her back to his room where he told her she could use the bathroom across the hall. He'd clean up in his parents' bathroom and meet her downstairs.

What she hadn't expected was beating him there. What kind of pampering was he up to that she was ready for school before he was?

But she was already downstairs, steps away from Bakugo's parents who were contained in quiet conversation while plating the meal they'd made together on their expensive looking kitchen counter. It was a charming sight, even if she was considering whether they'd seen her yet and if she could run back upstairs to wait for Bakugo.

His father noticed her first and she straightened her day old uniform skirt. "Hi," she squeaked and his mother turned too. "I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself. I'm Ochaco Uraraka. Thank you for-"

"Oh, don't worry about that," his mother insisted, grabbing two plates and making for the sturdy looking dining table. Its top was a matching stone to the counters and the char marks at its edge led her to guess where Bakugo normally sat. "We have the means. No reason we couldn't help out."

"And Katsuki has never asked us for a favor before, so we wouldn't want to say no anyway," his father chimed in. "I'm Masaru and this is my wife, Mitsuki."

"N-nice to meet you," Ochaco blushed.

They set breakfast on the table, Bakugo's father taking his seat while Mitsuki stomped over to the stairs. "Let's go, Katsuki! We're not waiting for you!" she screamed to the second floor and Ochaco had no doubt that Bakugo would hear her barking which — come to think of it — sounded so familiar.

They settled into chairs and Ochaco was careful to watch for which seat she should be taking. True to his mother's words, neither parent waited for Bakugo to dig in, but Ochaco found herself struggling to take her first bite without him.

"I'd meant to do your laundry last night, but I couldn't bring myself to wake you," Mitsuki said between mouthfuls. "But I'll get it done tonight so you can have some clean clothes."

Ochaco fiddled with her tablewear.

"We should be able to put in a request with an officer to retrieve a few things for you." Masaru was delicately choosing his bites in a way that reminded Ochaco of seeing Bakugo's cooking skills for the first time. "I'll look into it and let Katsuki know."

"Thank you," she answered, finally unable to resist the smell wafting up from the warm food. "And thank you for cooking."

Masaru chuckled. "It's not quite as good as Katsuki's, but it'll do. That boy is just determined to surpass the skills of everyone around him, I'm afraid."

If Bakugo could cook better than this maybe she needed to petition he take over for Lunch Rush. She took to eating, hardly noticing when Bakugo came thundering down the stairs to land in his seat beside her. He looked the same as he did every school day and didn't bother to look at her before inhaling his food.

The family chatted idly - mostly about their shared business in the fashion industry. Ochaco had almost choked on her food when Bakugo had joined in on a debate about a project his father had apparently been working on for a while. At one point, Bakugo turned to her to tell her about the basic exercises he used to strengthen his reflexes and the goals she should set for her speed and stamina. His parents had joined in, telling her stories of Bakugo's younger years when more rudimentary fitness had taken precedence over his quirk training.

When they finished, Ochaco demanded to do the dishes, much to his parents' distaste. She cleared off the table and set down their empty plates in the sink, starting the faucet. Bakugo was a presence at her back she could feel without him having to say a word. He dug through the fridge, drawing out a few things she didn't turn to see before pulling out a pan and setting it on the stove. By the time she was done with their dishes, he'd neatly packed two bentos she recognized from their lunch under the tree the day before.

"Is that-" she started to ask before his glare stopped her short.

His parents had long retreated upstairs when he took his bento over to his bag, packing it away. Ochaco hovered over the remaining prepared lunch like it might jump up and bite her.

"You don't have to take it, you know," Bakugo snapped and she snatched the small box off the counter and hid it away with her things just as a knock sounded at the door. Bakugo bore his eyes into it as if he could blow it up just on sight and she was reminded of the temperamental classmate she'd known before he'd inserted himself into her life.

Looking over her shoulder and wondering whether they should be saying goodbye to his parents, Ochaco didn't notice as Bakugo approached her with his bag already looped through his arm and slung over his back. He thumbed her chin, pulling her eyes to meet his own.

"Remember what I said," he ordered. It was as if they were in his backyard again, gearing up for another round of blows. "Don't fucking worry about what they think. Take care of yourself."

She nodded into his touch and their shared glance grew into a moment. His gaze drifted to her lips and back up again and she remembered the taste of the sweet nitroglycerine of his quirk from their last kiss. So when he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, she returned the sentiment.

The flurry of emotions he stirred up in her was let loose once more and she was beginning to think she wouldn't be able to minimize it much longer. Ever since the Sports Festival she'd been reminding herself just who Katsuki Bakugo was - as if his image was a wall between them that she'd refused to climb. But now here they were and he'd seemingly blasted down the wall on his own accord, leaving her in the wake of the chaos left behind to see who he really was beneath.

Maybe Bakugo was ruthless and maybe he was kind of an asshole, but he was also passionate and thoughtful - a mirror of herself as the bubbly girl who was friends with everyone, but a jaded, isolated heart underneath. Perhaps she'd been unfair to write him off as if he couldn't be more than what he'd let everyone else see.

The true Bakugo cooked dinner with his dad and packed himself a lunch every day. He was an innovative teacher, a natural protector. He was resilient and self sufficient - unbreakable on his mission to be the best.

Was this why Deku defended him after all their years of so-called friendship?

Bakugo used the peephole - something Ochaco never thought she would see - before opening the door to Cementoss. They followed their teacher back to his mid-sized SUV and clambered into the backseat together. When the car took off, Ochaco didn't hesitate to lay her head on Bakugo's shoulder.

His hand drifted to her knee where it stayed for the rest of the drive.

. . .

Ochaco had expected people to notice her - to look at her how they had two years ago after the incident that rerouted the course of her life forever. But apparently, news hadn't spread beyond her classroom. It was strange to feel like her life had frozen in time from the moment she'd heard that her parents were missing and yet all around her, time moved on.

No one batted an eye while her parents were gone.

She stuck to Bakugo's side. He hadn't reached for her hand and she hadn't sought his out either, instead walking much too closely to the surly blonde for it to go unnoticed. Most of the school had grown out of their fascination over Bakugo's less than conventional win in the Sports Festival, returning their attention to themselves and their studies.

Mercifully, they hadn't come across any of their classmates in the halls, but the door to room 1A was looming ahead. She'd never answered any of their texts - never even read them. The thought occurred to her of how she would look coming in after yesterday on Bakugo's tail, but there was a weight in her chest that kept her from caring.

She wasn't sure whether she was hoping for the others to already be inside, but she didn't let herself think about it too long. They stepped through the door to find much of the class already there. Heads perked up from their cliques, all circulating around a few desks.

"Uraraka!" a chorus rang through the room. Clusters of her friends broke away from the others, bolting for her. All the girls stepped up along with Kaminari, Ojiro, and Sato. Kirishima shouted a Bakugo nickname and her eyes flit to the redhead to see Deku and Iida, painful concern on their faces.

Bakugo bristled. "Quiet the fuck down you idiots. I can't breathe with you morons in my space," he spat, but she didn't miss that he hadn't taken his seat yet. The others crowded around the two of them, glancing between the pair as if holding back the questions they really wanted to ask in front of him.

Good. That would give her a little time to adjust to the onslaught of attention.

"Ochaco," Tsu said, stepping past Jiro and Kirishima. "Are you alright?"

Mina clasped her hands together as if holding back from reaching out for her. "Yeah, we've been worried."

"I'm okay," Ochaco told them, trying to convince herself it was the truth.

"Aizawa told us about the dorms," Kaminari said.

Toru shouldered her way beside him, leaving a blank space and a floating uniform between him and Momo. "There have been rumors that students have been targeted by villains so we've all been thinking the worst."

"We thought something happened during the hero training yesterday since you and Bakugo disappeared together, but neither of you have been answering your phones," Kirishima added, giving Bakugo an offended glance which he returned with a scoff.

"I don't worship my phone like you, Hair for Brains," he growled.

"I wish you'd have said something, kero," Tsu said softly, coming to Ochaco's side and placing a hand on her arm.

Ochaco knew what she would have normally said - what she should have said. Something like, _I'm sorry guys, I didn't mean to worry anyone _but it just felt like that last piece of herself she couldn't give away. She was tired - so tired of the broken part of her being ripped open and picked apart by others. They had all wanted to know every detail back in middle school. Her parents needed an exact retelling. The police had taken her statement for hours.

She just… she just wanted to be alone.

Itching to reach for Bakugo's hand, she turned to him instead. He responded, meeting her eyes.

"Alright fuckers, show's over," he roared, spinning his head back to their classmates as he spoke. "If the princess wanted to talk about it, she'd be talking. Stop kissing her feet and go sit the fuck down."

Dumbfounded expressions blossomed on their faces. Mouths popped open. Stares bore into Bakugo's face which was growing redder and redder with fury. He held up a threatening hand and they all shrunk away, retreating to their seats before he could blast his point across.

He didn't look back at her before heading to his desk, knocking his shoulder against Deku's on the way. She avoided making eye contact with her green-haired friend.

Ochaco scurried into her seat, bracing herself as Iida found his place in front of her. His chest rose with a heavy breath before he turned to her with sad eyes.

"I'm sorry," she heard him say as her vision started to tunnel. She was back in the meeting with the police officer, his hat in his hands. "We didn't mean to bombard you, Uraraka. You're our friend. We just care about you and want to know that you're okay."

The pressure eased and a tinge of guilt dropped down her throat. "Thank you, Iida," she whispered. "I-I'm sorry, too. I just… I don't want to talk about it."

He nodded dismally and she noticed he was watching Bakugo failing to get Kirishima to shut his mouth of terrifyingly pointed teeth and leave him alone. "Well," Iida said, bringing her attention back to him. "You know we're all here if you need anything - Midoriya, Asui, and myself."

Ochaco nodded, catching Tsu peering at her over her shoulder. She pinched her lips into a smile and it seemed to relieve the frog girl a bit.

"As for Bakugo," Iida started and Ochaco's smile dropped. "If he's doing anything to you, we'll-"

"Stop," she snapped. "Just… stop right there."

Iida's neck whipped around to her. He adjusted his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. "I see. Well," he paused. "Be careful."

Aizawa stepped into the classroom, ending their painful conversation as Iida faced forward for homeroom. Ochaco dared a glance over to Bakugo where Kirishima was finally taking his seat and leaving the blonde in peace. Almost as if he sensed her, he turned and met her eyes.

He offered her a swift, subtle nod that she returned.

When lunch came, Kirishima was right back to Bakugo's side. There was a part of her that felt small when she immediately looked toward the blonde at their dismissal. She'd been a completely functional person before he'd detonated his way into her life; she was capable of walking to lunch and talking to her friends alone.

But when her eyes locked with Deku's, her nerves twitched all the way to her fingertips. She would need to face him sooner or later and with her newfound support system more or less subdued, now was as good a time as any.

She stood from her desk. Iida and Tsu stood ahead at their own, waiting for her automatically, but they must have seen the shared glance between Ochaco and Deku and decided to give them some privacy. The two walked out of the classroom along with so many of the others until Ochaco was almost alone with the boy she considered one of her best friends. She tried not to think about why it was so hard to look at him.

She could see Bakugo standing up in her peripherals - hear him admonishing Kirishima for something with a growl.

"Do you want to walk to lunch together?" Deku asked as he stepped around a desk, drawing her attention to him.

"Sure," she answered distantly, summoning herself. She felt a familiar heavy prickling and looked up to see Bakugo watching her. She pressed her lips into a tight smile and he scowled before Kirishima spoke up once more, laying a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Ochaco left the classroom with Deku.

She didn't want to be the one to start. It occurred to her that Principal Nezu had mentioned Deku experiencing an encounter with a villain yesterday morning, but the timing had struck her too close to everything she'd been hiding for so long. Focusing on the soft sound of her steps blending with the chorus of the other students' kept her grounded.

She didn't want to think about who that villain might have been. She didn't want to think of how he might have been tied to her. She didn't want to think of just what that villain might be doing right now - of how he could be the root of Deku's altercation.

Of her parents disappearance.

Instead, she stared at the ground as they made their way to the cafeteria.

The discomfort of her walk with Deku was a startling contrast to the ease that had grown in her alongside Bakugo - it was a sharp, stabbing thought.

"I think I need to talk to you about something," Deku said, finally breaking the silence.

With the open double doors to the lunchroom in sight, she turned to him and tried to smile. "Alright. What's up?"

Deku scanned the sea of faces before them as he came to a stop. "I… Well, I, um, actually it's probably not a good time," his voice fell. "After school maybe?"

Blood rushed to her cheeks. She wouldn't be able to delay Cementoss long, but she'd have to try. The idea of Deku coming over to see her at Bakugo's house seemed…

Dangerous.

"Uh, yeah!" she forced, doing her best to cover her secret about her current sleeping arrangement. "Sure, Deku. I can wait for you after class?"

The boy smiled at her - something that normally sent a flurry through her stomach, but, for whatever reason, today she didn't feel anything. Probably her nerves, she considered, as she tried not to let her thoughts drift to her parents - or to _him_.

"Yeah, sounds good," he laughed under his breath. They joined the lunch line inside and he turned to her again. "Hey, how did you and Kacchan get such a crazy score on the maze yesterday?" he asked enthusiastically and her tension finally soothed.

They slipped into comfortable conversation and Ochaco felt her smile brighten into something real as she recounted her and Bakugo's flight to her best friend.


	11. HOLD YOU DOWN - X Ambassadors

Katsuki Bakugo took back every almost-nice thought he had about Kirishima.

"Dude, c'mon," the redhead egged him on. "You gotta give me some kind of details."

As if Shitty Hair being mildly tolerable earned him some sort of exclusive insight.

"I don't have to give you shit," he snapped, keeping his eyes from gravitating back toward the antigravity girl herself.

"That tells me enough!" the eager boy proclaimed. "Something is going on with you and Uraraka. There's gotta be."

Kirishima was standing over Bakugo's desk, his arms crossed. Bakugo could feel the restless energy oozing from him, desperate to touch down on the corners of his desk, but wary of edging too close to Bakugo's nerve. Shitty Hair was a smart mother fucker, he'd give him that.

"There doesn't 'gotta be' anything," Bakugo mocked him, growing impatient as he dug out his lunch from his bag and set it on his desk. He didn't need someone else pressuring him and Uraraka to become anything they weren't.

He'd noticed the way she'd avoided accepting his efforts, his attention. She'd never admitted to reciprocating his feelings, but she responded to his touches and that was enough to keep him going.

For now.

He wouldn't push her — not emotionally, and not in her current state. The way she'd looked at him when all her friends had surrounded her, throwing her under a microscope… He knew her mind was elsewhere. Her parents were missing and, apparently, this affected something else from her past she hadn't told him.

There was no need to replay her broken state in the principal's office. He remembered.

"But you—," Kirishima started, before taking a second to rethink, adjusting himself. "I saw you step in for her — not once, but twice."

He left his statement at that. As if that meant anything.

Bakugo scoffed and stood, his gaze finally slipping over to Uraraka and her eyes met his. They connected, like a tangible thing. She was talking to Deku and he refused himself the twitch in his lip that struggled to break the surface.

"Doesn't mean anything," he grumbled at his so-called friend.

But Kirishima was hardly convinced. "Oh, it means a lot," he said, stepping between Bakugo and the door.

A bold move.

"It's okay if you like her, man," Kirishima whispered, and Bakugo crackled a palm in the hopes of turning his reddening face into fury. "She's cute. We all can see that."

How dare Kirishima see him as just another doting puppy. Bakugo knew he was above that, more than that. Uraraka wasn't just a pretty face. She wasn't the frail little girl the boys had called her in the stands during the Sports Festival. They saw her as a butterfly. He knew she was a spirited bird of prey.

"Dammit, Hair for Brains," he growled and the boy stiffened. "You don't know what you're fucking talking about."

The accused raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I get that, really, I do," he said. "I'm just saying that it's kind of a big deal; One moment we're all racing across the finish line of a maze only to see that you and Uraraka annihilated our times and you're both gone. When you turn up, it's in the middle of Sensei's lecture and she's been crying."

Bakugo sneered at the reminder.

"And don't think I missed that this is the second day you've walked into school with her in the morning," he added.

Fucking Shitty Hair.

Bakugo was ready to snap back when something caught in the corner of his eye. Uraraka was leaving the room with Deku without her bag — without his bento. Something sharp lit in his chest and suddenly Kirishima was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Kirishima," he said, his voice buried. The redhead's eyes widened. "Get the fuck out of my business."

Kirishima's mouth dropped open, but no words came out. He stood his ground as Bakugo shoulder-checked him on his way out.

Bakugo chose to abandon his lunch, suddenly not very hungry anymore.

His steps seemed to crash into the tile floor, leading him downstairs and in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. Lip twitching as his face furled into a snarl, he checked the timers on each practice room as he passed them until he finally found one unoccupied. With a press of a button, his time started to countdown.

He had been so stupid.

Ignoring his training for the last few days.

Taking to the center of the wide, white-walled room, he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and adjusted his belt. The routine of his stretches offered him the desired effect: a limbering of the fire that was always blazing within his quirk in the depths of his gut.

He grounded himself with a mental ticking, like the rhythm of a timebomb counting down. Moving through his usual flows, he tested himself. When he'd spread his legs as far as he could, he dropped into bent knees. He held the weight of his balance in his parallel arms and thighs, and then pushed forward. Pulling his body up onto one leg in a fluid movement while keeping the other stretched, he focused. A familiar tension set into his muscles and he breathed through it, feeling the tick tick tick.

And then he sprung.

He leapt off the single leg, catching himself with open palms and followed the momentum to launch himself back onto his feet. Careful to keep his movements from being too stiff, he fell into a new flow. Stretching his muscles — feeling them rise to the challenges he set for them — was addicting.

He practiced until beads of sweat touched the divide of his hair and forehead. Sweat had always been his closest ally — the drops that fell from his brow to his cheek reminding him of all the power that lie within him.

Back in his warrior pose, he bent to plant a palm to the tiled floor. Bracing himself, he reoriented so his wrist and shoulder bore his weight. He tucked in one leg first, calling upon the rhythm of his explosive ticking. With all of the force he had activated in his core, he brought his legs up and over his head.

He wouldn't use his other hand. He wouldn't use his other hand.

But his single handed handstand was still far from perfect — the maneuver a small goal he could handle in spurts. He wanted to be able to hold it whenever he wanted, for as long as he wanted.

The ground came charging forward — fast. His elbow bent with fatigue and his free hand shot out reflexively, firing an indoor blast that spun him away from his crash.

"Eep!" a high-pitched voice sounded through the smoke.

He tumbled through the air as his equilibrium settled and he landed in a crouch, turning on the intruder.

The aftermath of his quirk dissipated, revealing a slightly shocked Uraraka standing in the doorway.

Holding two bentos.

"What are you doing?" Bakugo tried to channel his earlier fire into his voice, but it fell flat.

She lifted the lunches. "I forgot my lunch and when I went back for it, yours was on your desk," she said as if it were the simplest thing. "I wasn't sure where you'd gone, so I asked Kirishima and he said you train during lunch sometimes."

He stared at her, incredulous. "That doesn't answer my question, Cheeks."

Her brows dropped. "I thought we…" she started before lowering her chin, reconsidering. Something steeled in her and she widened her stance, bringing her face back up to look him in the eyes. "I wanted to eat lunch with you," she said like a dare.

An unseen weight lifted from his shoulders. There she was again — lightening whatever load he'd forced on himself, just like in the waiting room at the Sports Festival.

Tilting his head, he let his amusement play at the corner of his lips. "And if I just wanted to train?"

Uraraka didn't miss a beat. She stacked the bentos and set them down by the door and Bakugo let his smile consume his face. "Then I want to train with you," she said and he crackled his open palms.

"You sure about that, Princess?" he challenged, already knowing the effect it would have on the girl whose blush was hot with something else. "This isn't like morning playtime."

She stepped toward him, mirroring his grin. "Give me what you got."

. . .

"This is so good," Uraraka moaned into her small plastic spork.

Bakugo watched her eat in See Through's turned around chair with no small amount of pride. For one, she was talking a lot more now - a good sign, he decided. And then she had a still-growing knot just between the part of her hair from her first defeat at holding a handstand. They hadn't sparred for the rest of the time on his meter in the training room. Instead, he'd shown her some of the strengthening exercises he preferred, focusing on movements that would assist her in the air. She'd taken her failures in stride, just as she'd done the first time he'd seen her for who she was - during their match in the tournament.

And lastly, because he was a really fucking good cook.

She nom'd idly over his desk as he packed his empty case away, having eaten much faster than her. Low on time, they'd just taken their meals back to the classroom, rather than walking to the cafeteria to join the others. It was a decision he happily obliged.

Her bites slowed. "Deku wants to talk to me after school."

Why was she telling him this?

"Want me to pop an explosion to burst your eardrums first or what?" he asked, more than prepared to lay it on thick.

She gave him an unimpressed look. "No, I'm just saying I'll do that before leaving with Cementoss."

"Tch," he scoffed. "Okay, whatever."

Uraraka swallowed the last of her food, closing the lid on her bento with a soft pop. He took it from her and stowed it in his bag before she could argue.

"My dad texted me," he told her. He'd checked his phone when they'd first settled around his desk. "You can send me a list of things that'll fit in one bag and I'll forward it to him. The police will get it for you and bring it over tonight."

She nodded solemnly. He knew she didn't like to be reminded of the situation going on outside the walls of UA, but he was positive she would enjoy a change of clothes.

"Will you come with me?" she asked.

He frowned at her. "It's my house, Cheeks."

She blushed and his impatience was forgotten. "No! No, I mean, when I talk with Deku."

That… he was not expecting.

No one in their right mind had ever wanted to be between the potential tension that Bakugo felt at Deku's presence. It was a fury and frustration Bakugo avoided looking too deep into, even if he knew there would probably be a truth beneath it all. He wasn't ready to face it. Instead, he would unleash said frustration right into that nerd's face.

"Why would I do that?" he snapped.

Uraraka bit her lip - an action that almost instantly had him thinking of kissing her, but the topic at hand numbed that hunger. "He wants to talk about his villain encounter yesterday morning," she said. Bakugo remembered Principal Nezu mentioning it, but he'd written it off as another way Deku managed to always blow something simple into astronomical proportions. "And I think it's related to me. To… my parents."

Bakugo sighed, the sound more like a growl as he reared back in his seat. "Fine," he said, his voice clipped.

Her returning smile was small, but welcomed. "Thank you," she whispered before her eyes popped open like a thought had struck her. "And," she started, a creeping blush darkening her cheeks as she leaned forward in her seat, "thank you for lunch."

And then she kissed him.

It was brisk.

But left a lasting impression.

He decided it was his new favorite thing.

Because it was the first time she'd given him any sign that she felt the stirring in his chest at the sight of her too. That despite everything going on around them, they might still be becoming something. That she might actually see through him the way he seemed to see through her.

That maybe, just maybe, she liked him too.

Their class started to file in and he recognized the pressure of their glances as they noticed him and Uraraka sitting together in the room alone. Uraraka offered him one last smile as her blush faded and she made her way back to her seat for the rest of their school day.

. . .

Katsuki Bakugo had never really stopped to consider the things he might be willing to do for a girl he liked, but if he had… this was definitely not on the list.

Still, he found himself in step with Uraraka as they walked through the halls of UA to find somewhere quiet.

With Deku.

Being alone with the nerd wasn't a totally foreign concept for Bakugo. It's just that usually their previous experiences of quality time involved violence and the sensitive parts of him deep inside that lashed out the moment they were touched. He avoided his twitching palms by stowing them in his pockets.

They turned down a short hall that led to a side exit toward one of the gyms before stopping. Deku was all nerves, as usual. The far off look had returned in Uraraka's eyes and Bakugo wasn't unaware of just how close to his side she stood.

His lip started to curl at their stiff silence. "Okay, you wanted to talk Deku. So talk."

The green-haired boy's eyes flit between his and Uraraka's. If he was bothered by Bakugo's presence he was going to have to get over it. She wanted him here, so he wasn't going anywhere.

"Um, well," Deku started. "I had a, er, run in with someone yesterday morning."

Uraraka nodded, her face slowly falling into a numb state Bakugo was regrettably beginning to recognize. "Yeah, Principal Nezu said you'd had an encounter," she said.

The nerd scratched his head. "Yeah, and, uh," he continued and Bakugo imagined himself setting off a blast in his stuttering face. "He was older, but he said you might have told me about him."

Uraraka has gone still. Bakugo bristled behind her.

"I just thought you should know because of how weird the whole thing was. He was… menacing, but strangely friendly." Deku fidgeted with his hands, casting his gaze down and back up again. "He told me to tell you that he missed you."

This time the brunette between them visibly crumpled, folding her spine as if a wave passed through her chest. She held her eyes open, but did not look at Deku.

"Uraraka?" Deku asked, alarmed. "Are you okay? Who was that guy?"

But she just stepped back, into Bakugo's side. He didn't give her space, instead remaining a wall for her weight. She turned on him sharply, ignoring Deku as she rolled against Bakugo's shoulder. Her hand buried into the neck of his shirt as she grabbed his collar.

"Can we go?" she blurted out. Deku's lips parted in concern, his hand reaching out as if to comfort her, but he refrained. "I want to go home."

"Sure thing, Cheeks," he replied, his arm reflexively curving under hers to wrap around her back. He offered her a moment to respond to Deku, but she didn't turn back around.

"Now?" she begged, her voice small. "Please."

He shared a glance with Deku, the pain of worry written all over the smaller boy's face. Bakugo pressed his fingers into Uraraka's side and led her to Cementoss' car where the math teacher was waiting idly by. If the pro was annoyed at their tardiness, he didn't show it.

The car ride to his house was silent.

Uraraka sat straight in her seat and Bakugo wasn't sure she'd let herself blink since Deku's confession. He didn't try to set his hand on her knee like this morning, but he kept his leg firm against hers, unwilling to leave her completely alone.

His parents weren't home when they arrived. A note on the kitchen island told him that his father was out for work and his mom went to the store. There were more details that he didn't have the time to read, because Uraraka hadn't paused from the moment they crossed the threshold. He caught up with her at the top of the stairs. She bolted for his bedroom, reaching for the knob before he could.

They stepped inside and she shut the door slowly — intentionally.

And then she rested her back against it and finally closed her eyes as her face cracked into pieces. She slid down the length of the door, her mouth open with her silent cry. He stood by as she screamed soundlessly, tears starting to stream down her reddening cheeks. Her hands drew to cover her flood of emotion and she pulled her knees into herself, curling up into a ball. It took moments before she finally wept - before a single noise erupted from her in sharp gasps.

It took Bakugo a minute to find himself.

He crouched down in front of her.

But what could he say? What could he do?

He dropped to the floor and reached out, but where she'd always responded to his touch, this time it was like she couldn't feel his hand on her thigh at all. Her cries were a heavy, burdened sound and he grabbed her other leg as well.

"Hey," he tried. Her fingers only pressed harder into her brows and temples as her body shook. "Uraraka."

She didn't respond.

But he pulled on her, growing desperate for something to ease the wild thing loose inside of her, and she let him. So he summoned his courage and reached for her wrists this time. She didn't remove her hands from her face, but when he tugged her toward him and she moved. One grab at a time, he brought her from the door to his chest and when her forehead finally fell into the crook of his shoulder, she wrapped her arms around his ribs.

There was a time not long ago where he couldn't fathom being in this situation. If someone had told him about this a week ago he'd laugh in their face and probably blast them a new one. However, now all he could do was picture the girl who'd chased him through the waiting room of the Sports Festival, whose face lit up after flying with him like it was the most incredible thing she'd ever done, who turned on her heels and asked him how to get faster. She was the girl who had brought him his bento and still set them aside ready to fight him knowing it would be an uphill battle.

So he let her cry. Even when his shirt was damp and she was hiccuping through her snotty nose, he held her. And when she finally quieted and let out a breathless, "I'm sorry," he didn't let go.

When Uraraka pulled away, her eyes were swollen and her color was patchy. A piece of her hair had stuck to her cheek in her tears and he moved it away, tucking it behind her ear. "You shouldn't have to be doing this," she whispered.

"I don't have to be doing this," he corrected.

Her gaze had returned from the far away place. She ran the back of her hand under her nose and said, "Then why do you?"

"I like you," he answered. It was easier to say the second time - almost coming out naturally.

A statement of fact, he told himself.

She rested her head back on his shoulder, tightening her hold on him again, but saying nothing.

"Are you going to tell me what just happened?" he pressed her - all too aware of how something this bottled up could explode in your face.

"I've never told anyone," she said into his shirt.

The air around them smoothed over and he found himself running his thumb along her back - just once.

"He killed my best friend."

At first, Bakugo wasn't sure he'd heard her right, but she continued.

"Two years ago, I went to see a movie with her in the city. My parents dropped us off and we-," she paused, "we weren't supposed to leave the theater, but we wanted snacks and our parents only gave us enough money for the tickets. We only had enough of our own for something from the convenience store down the street. We didn't think it was a big deal," she sniffled and he felt her hand rise up to her nose again. "He pulled us into an alley and he just… he just…

"He just started stabbing her right in front of me. We were too shocked to scream - to move. I couldn't move. I just stood there and watched him murder my best friend."

Her voice broke and she tensed into a ball against his chest.

"He just tossed her aside and pressed me against the wall. He told me he'd watched me - followed me around for weeks waiting to get to talk to me. He s-said he just wanted to be close to me."

Her words heaved into him, clicking into place like the smashing boulders of her meteor shower.

"That's who talked to Deku," he said, more to himself than to her.

"People on the street finally saw us and called the police," she went on with her story, replaying her memories for him. "The last thing he said to me was that he couldn't wait to see me again. They never caught him."

They remained silent for a few shared heartbeats as the weight of her confession sank in between them. Bakugo waited - apparently a new trend for him when it came to Uraraka - and she slowly relaxed against him where they sat on the floor of his room.

"I hope you're ready to get used to those early morning trainings, Princess," he said, breaking the growing peace.

She pulled away, a soft betrayal bending her features. Her lips parted, but he cut her off.

"Because if he ever sees you again, you're going to kick his ass."


	12. Animal - Troye Sivan

Approximately Two Years Ago

"Date me."

She giggled at him, poking two fingers playfully across the bone of his collar one at a time. "But there's so much blood to be had, Jin." Thick lashes framed her eyes alight with a fever for something just out of reach. She sighed against the old brick building, kicking beads of asphalt with her loafers.

"Err, not sure how I feel about that," he answered her, his hands flying up to rub the back of his neck in an awkward twitch. "Got any more softcore preferences?"

His new ally twirled in the shadows, the nearest streetlight down at the corner. "You're my friend!" she exclaimed. "I want the blood of my loves. Pretty, pretty blood."

He itched to bite at his nails, but his costume prevented such a thing. Besides, his state of mind wasn't faring too well as of late. There was no way he would be able to remove his mask anytime soon unless he wanted his quirk to take over. Dabi was unceremoniously late, as usual. His phone call had been brief, no details shared on the new job he had planned. When he had mentioned that he'd found another member to assist their ragtag duo, he'd tried not to get his hopes up to see this girl again.

But here she was, in shining villainous glory.

He couldn't help but stare at her.

"I gave blood one time," he said. "I mean, I was required to for the tonsillectomy, but same thing."

"Ooooh," Toga cooed.

He smiled at her reaction.

They'd met once or twice before- - twice actually, he remembered each time perfectly - and he'd found himself completely enamored with the girl in a way he'd never experienced. There was something about the naive way she viewed the world, with such lust that inspired him and his own passion. She was just… so unapologetically herself. He wanted to feel that way about himself too.

Dabi just said he was fucked up, but he knew that already.

"Alright, assholes," the man himself said as he stepped into the finely paved alley. "Tonight we're gonna make some real money."

"And split it three ways?" he asked eagerly.

Dabi brushed a finger along a row of stitches on his face. "This time, yeah, actually."

"Woooo!" Toga sang. "Will there be blood?"

"No," Dabi cut her off quickly. "The point of this job is to _avoid _bloodshed."

"Aww, Jin," the blonde pouted, reaching both of her hands onto his shoulder to rest her chin. "I wanted blood."

"Jin?" Dabi turned to him. "She calls you Jin?"

"Yeah," he said. "Something about Twice not being cute enough."

Dabi snorted with a small shake of his head. "Whatever." He tilted his head to the side in the closest thing Dabi possessed to a smile. "So we're splitting this one evenly because it requires your quirks - and it was my idea."

Toga hopped away from Twice and he watched her dance for a moment in the moonlight transfixed.

"Fucking hell, pay attention," Dabi snapped. "You might have noticed I gathered us in a different location than normal."

"Yeah, what's with all the rich people?" Toga said.

"Rich people have all the money," Twice told her.

"But their blood will be the same red as mine and yours and his."

"Anyway," Dabi continued. "We're going to get in and out real fast and real quiet."

"And there will be blood? Toga pressed.

Dabi sighed and found a vacant wall of brick to lean against. "Okay, there might be a little blood."

This time Twice cheered, eyeing Toga for approval. She met his gaze with sparks in her eyes and he beamed.

"But it's gotta be _quiet_ blood," Dabi said. "If any of these fuckers sound the alarm, we're through."

"Got it," Toga grinned, clasping her hands together in the dark.

"But what if they have burglar systems?" Twice asked.

It was Dabi's turn to grin - well, smirk. "They'll turn them off when they let us walk right through the front door."

Twice was not crazy about Dabi's plan.

In fact, he kind of hated it. The most important part of the plan was his use of his own quirk which was… questionable for the time being. The other versions of himself were restless and wild when he created them and ever since the last big round of self-murder-roulette, he'd kept his quirk hidden in the deepest parts of himself. It had taken weeks before he'd even tried to duplicate something _other _than himself in case that sent him down another path of mental instability.

Dabi said he'd always been unstable and to just roll with it.

Still, he'd locked away his clones in a forgotten part of his mind - as best he could, at least. There were still times when the voices haunted him - when they kept him awake at night, wrestling with each other and leaving him staring up at the rotting ceiling of his studio apartment wondering whether he was the real Jin Bubaigawara.

He'd started asking everyone to just call him Twice.

So, as he strained to take thick breaths through the mask of his costume, he attempted to gather the strength to tell his only comrades that we would refuse to participate.

But then there was Toga - the devilish imp of a girl who grinned her way into his brittle, lonely heart. She scrunched her nose at him, spreading a wide, delighted smile across her cheeks.

"We're gonna have so much fun, Jin!"

He sighed. The argument that he could simply copy her _alone _instead of alongside him crossed his mind, but he couldn't bear to let her brazenly take off into danger while he sat back and waited behind her. He should be protecting her - showing her that maybe he didn't have to be just her friend. He could be one of her loves, too.

"Okay, so do I copy her before or after she changes?" he asked finally.

Dabi referred to the blonde who was tilting her head to the side in thought. "Before, probably," she said with her index finger to her chin.

"And you have enough blood for the copies?"

She lit up and eyed Dabi. "Oh yes," she said. "From one of my loves. But I may have gotten caught and been expelled from school."

The two grown men watched her face morph from thoughtfulness back into her manic enthusiasm.

"Right," Twice said. "Okay then."

Dabi had decided that six pairs of them would be enough to earn the most from their heists, without getting too out of control. Twice felt he might know better on the subject, but refrained from correcting the young leader. He'd be making five copies of Toga while making four copies of himself in the end, though he'd have to start with two copies of himself to make the rest of the clones after he'd maxed out.

He was glad he was wearing a full face mask - that his allies couldn't see the raw fear touching the corners of his eyes as he let his quirk take hold.

Still, he hid his face in his hands as he doubled, and doubled again. The clones took up their jobs and he heard the telltale fluid snaps of his creation quirk coming to life around him. He could do this. He had to. For the money.

For Toga.

And when he heard his quirk stop and a new, unfamiliar sound start, his eyes bolted up.

Toga was gone.

In her place stood six brunettes with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

He fought the urge to flee as they all split into two's. He'd gone with one of the girls, though he was clueless as to whether she was the original. The thought blurred the lines in his mind. Why _was _he doing this? Because he'd been told to? By who? No one had forced him to come, to agree, to venture off down the row of homes with price tags higher than all the yen he'd ever possessed in his life. Or maybe his quirk had made him come? Maybe _he_ had told him to come - told himself to come.

Maybe he was one of the clones.

He tried to fidget with a chewed nail inside his glove and failed.

"This is going to be great, Jin!" Toga said in a new voice. It was bright and clear in a way that Toga's was lacking - like a lighthouse in his dreary night lost at sea inside his own mind.

"Yeah," he thought he said. He was preoccupied thinking about the four other pairs of duplicate versions of themselves off somewhere. He'd never liked Dabi for much more than the acquaintance they'd been in recent years, but now he found himself awe-strikingly jealous of him.

_Why didn't Dabi have you copy him for the pairs?_

_What a friend._

_He's not my friend. _

_Obviously - look what he did to you._

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

"I wasn't talking?" Toga said in an other's voice, innocence shining in her new brown eyes as they turned the corner toward the mark they'd been given.

"No, I kno-" but he stopped himself. This wouldn't do him any good. He needed a distraction - something to take his mind off the inevitable battle to the death that awaited him when he rejoined the cult of his clones. Would he survive? If he died, didn't that mean he was a clone and everything was fine? But what if he wanted to live? What if he lived on but was always just a clone walking in the shoes of another?

Twice shook his head. "Tell me about this girl," he said into the dark.

"Who? Oh! Me! Right," Toga sang, her new pitch beguiling. "I am Ochaco Uraraka, the _cutest _girl in my middle school."

Twice felt himself smile. "Obviously."

"I am super beautiful and super popular and I have two loving parents!" she chirped, something aching beneath her words.

"And let me guess: they're super great too?"

"Absolutely!"

He watched her soft, sweet smile for a beat longer than he'd planned to.

The almost-mansion they'd been given came upon them and they switched gears, stowing their grins. Twice felt a bizarre sense of deja vu - as if he could sense the others donning upon their marks themselves.

It fucked him up.

"Okay, ready?" he asked her.

She just smiled, her old toothy grin replaced by a gentle, soothing one that touched him somewhere deep in the terror of his chest. Maybe it was going to be alright. Maybe he was the real Jin. Maybe he would survive the attack on himself by himself that was sure to come later when he reunited with all of himselves.

Maybe.

He ducked away, pressing against the closest corner of the house he could and strained to listen as she approached the front door. Her school uniform and generally adorable appearance had to be enough to get them inside - as long as Toga could stay in character and keep from spouting off something about blood for like, five minutes. Three, even.

The sense of deja vu tickled through his mind again and he wondered how the others were faring against their hosts. Quickly, he went through their route to their recon location just as the front door opened, warm light filtering onto the porch. A bench swing swayed slightly in the night breeze as he peeked over the corner of the red brick. Toga had pinched her new, mesmerizingly cute face into the picture of desperation, a film of tears watering her eyes.

Yellow light on the concrete grew as the door opened completely and Twice commended her performance, especially when she managed to stall long enough for him to slink from the side of the house up to her without even casting him a glance. He was doing pretty well himself, but of course he would be - what else was a clone good for?

They burst inside together, Twice forcing the man who'd answered the door up against the first interior wall. A dark oil painting that looked older than all three of them combined crashed to the ground and Toga closed the door behind them with a soft click.

"Show us the safe," Twice said from behind his mask.

The portly man shook in his hold, slowly raising his hands.

And then closing one into a tight fist.

Twice whipped his head to her on instinct, just as hers exploded in what would have been a gruesome display of skull and brains and blood. Instead, grey mud splattered across the expensive-looking decor, dripping pieces flying directly into Twice's eyes.

Their marks weren't supposed to have any substantial quirks.

He turned back in less than a breath, snapping the neck of the man double his age with minimal effort. Abandoning the corpse that crashed to the floor with a heavy thud, Twice dropped to his knees beside the girl he'd been meant to protect - to save. His fingers touched down on nothing but mud, her essence oozing between them as a stark reminder of just what he was likely made of too.

They should have abandoned this mission - they should have never stepped foot in this house.

So what if he was the clone?

He could have run off with Ochaco Uraraka into the night and never be seen again. They could have lived happy lives away from the madness of their original selves. He would have let her have his blood - have whatever she wanted in their new lives. Lives of freedom.

His head fell heavy between his sagging shoulders and his palms pressed into the wet remains of the girl he was supposed to save. She was gone. Toga was gone.

But it wasn't Toga.

Toga would have saved herself. Toga would have fought tooth and nail. Toga would have carved this pig of a man into a feast for herself while she cackled with furious bloodlust.

This girl was sweet, with bright eyes full of hope and a small, charming smile.

Maybe she wasn't Toga at all.

Like maybe he wasn't Jin.

Maybe she was Ochaco Uraraka.

And maybe he was supposed to save her.


	13. Someone To Stay - Vancouver Sleep Clinic

She kissed him.

Any wall of denial she had left crumbled in his eyes - in what he saw in her. Ochaco Uraraka had always believed herself to be strong, special even, though she could never tell anyone that. And when _he _came along that belief had distorted into fear of herself. First, in middle school, she should be plain. She abandoned her circle and fell into the background where no one could see her and no one could know her. Then, at UA, she should be average. She should be what was expected of her cute exterior - friendly, bubbly, amiable.

But even _he_ couldn't take away the version of herself she felt when Bakugo was with her — the truth, cut and raw beneath the muddy exterior.

She _was _strong. She was more than her fears - more than a wallflower and more than the popular girl.

She was going to be a hero.

His hand rose to cup her cheek in the same palm that obliterated her meteor shower only days ago. He matched her kiss, their lips rolling into each other as she adjusted between his legs to face him. Her fingers twisted into the center of his shirt as she pulled him closer and his other hand tightened around her back.

She was eager — more so than she expected of

herself. Pressing further into his lips, his chest, she felt him slipping back into the empty air and she followed. He kept her close as he let her push him down with her fervor. She leaned over him, never letting their lips part for more than a quick gasp of a breath. His hands settled on her hips as hers fell on either side of his face on his bedroom floor, the ends of her hair tickling his cheeks. Her middle connected with his, a yearning heat she remembered from their first kiss leading their way.

"KATSUKI!"

Uraraka launched off of Bakugo, rolling into the side of his bed with an abrupt thud of her head against its frame.

"You don't get to skip out on your night just because Uraraka is here!" his mom shrieked from somewhere downstairs and Uraraka double-checked that his door was still closed.

Bakugo was taking a steadying breath that shook his chest before he shouted back, "Don't you think I know that?!"

"Apparently not, because your ass is still not down here!"

"I'm fucking coming!" he growled and loosed a scoff. Uraraka rubbed the throbbing part of her skull as he turned to her, a slow lop-sided smirk stretching across his cheek. He caught her chin with his thumb and forefinger and delivered a soft peck to her lips before he stood.

Grabbing his bag from school, he said, "Bring your homework."

Uraraka flailed to her feet and did as she was told.

Bakugo's parents has both returned. Her dad brought in a duffle bag for her from the police with a quiet smile. The pair lingered downstairs for a while asking about their days before retreating upstairs.

Meanwhile Bakugo had ordered her to do homework while he cooked them all dinner.

It was a novelty to watch him work. He chose his instruments and ingredients with precision and Uraraka had never seen someone use so many spices in one dish. And, because he's Bakugo, he also managed to notice when she was taking too long on a particular math question and would come pry over her shoulder. He'd guide her toward the correct method in words much too harsh for a tutor, but she'd solve the problem every time anyway.

Did he have to be so good at everything?

As if on cue, his parents found their way back downstairs just in time and she wondered if they already knew what he was cooking. Did they have a schedule? Did Bakugo cook for his parents every week?

She shut her book, leaving her work trapped in its pages to set aside for later.

Bakugo was pulling plates and bowls from a pantry and she jumped to her feet, unwilling to be an ungrateful guest. He eyed her when she stepped in, but backed down in favor of collecting his pots and pans to move to the table. They set the family meal together as his parents continued on in a conversation about work and Uraraka ignored the flutter in her chest at the normalcy, but refused to reject it. Shutting it down meant opening up the black hole that was her current family situation.

"Thank you, dear," Mitsuki said as Uraraka offered her a bowl.

Masaru smiled at his son. "Thanks, Katsuki."

Bakugo grunted, finding his seat alongside Uraraka once the ministrations were complete.

The Bakugo household ate much more quietly than she was used to, but they also served _much _better food.

"We got a call from school today," Masaru said after he finished drinking the broth from his noodle dish. "Your class moves into the dorms this weekend. Tomorrow night will be your last night here."

"Ah," was all Bakugo said.

Mitsuki continued to eat with gusto.

"I've been in contact with Officer Toyaru, Uraraka," Masaru added and Uraraka felt her heart quicken. "They're going to release your apartment sometime next week hopefully, but I've gotten them to agree to have movers take your bedroom things to the dorms for you tomorrow night."

Uraraka's lips parted. "I— but, I… thank you, but I won't have movers to take my things."

Mitsuki waved a flippant hand, swallowing her noodles. "Already taken care of. They're moving Katsuki's furniture too. You don't have to worry about a thing."

Uraraka stared at the pair across the table, her hands suddenly feeling restless. She rubbed two finger pads together. "I can't accept this," she said softly.

"Relax, Cheeks," Bakugo said beside her, stretching out an arm to the corner of her chair. "You can pay during training," he smirked.

Mitsuki wadded up her napkin and threw it at him before turning back to Uraraka with a smile. "Actually we figure you're already paying for it by putting up with that one," she said with a hoarse laugh.

Bakugo glared at his mother. "She doesn't _put up _with me. I am a goddamn _delight_."

Uraraka watched him for a moment, narrowing her eyes. "I can't tell if you're trying to make a joke."

Mitsuki burst into laughter and Masaru choked.

Bakugo curled his face into a snarl, but pressed a gentle fist into her cheek in a mock punch. "I'll remember that in the morning," he warned her.

But she was on a roll. "You act like I've ever been scared of you."

As soon as the words left her smart mouth, she regretted them.

Bakugo raised his brows at her in the most terrifying _oh really _face she'd ever seen. His parents snickered at them from their seats and Uraraka was glad they thought her impending death was hilarious.

This time Bakugo's parents did the dishes, refusing to let her do them when supposedly she'd helped cook. She'd done no such thing — obviously — but the longer she kept her ability to burn down a kitchen under wraps around this house, the better.

She'd followed Bakugo back to the safety of his room only for him to grab his own schoolwork and herd her back downstairs to the living room. His parents _casually _disappeared again and she was starting to wonder if they were trying to give the two alone time after seeing how close the family was over meals.

"How can you be so bad at this?"

Uraraka frowned at the numbers swirling on her paper. "How can you be the worst tutor I never asked for?"

For some reason, he grinned at her instead of blowing her up.

He set his book aside and slid closer to her on the couch, pulling her work onto their shared laps. "Fine. So you see—"

But she forgot to listen because he'd wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. She could feel his fingers against her arm and remembered the way they felt on her hips upstairs.

"Are you even listening to me, Cheeks?"

She snapped her eyes up to him, caught. However, instead of the scolding she was expecting, he seemed to see something in her gaze — and her blush — that drew his eyes to her lips.

And then they were making out on his parents couch.

His hands found her desired destination and they turned toward each other, barely pausing with surprise when her textbook fell to the floor. She wound her hands around his neck, running her fingers through his hair. He grabbed her thigh and she moved her legs over his lap.

It was a heated, blissful distraction from her life until someone started banging on the front door.

They pulled apart and Uraraka felt her cheeks flood with embarrassment.

Bakugo was pissed.

"KATSUKI!" sounded from the other room.

"I fuckin' got it!" he shouted back, peeling Uraraka's legs off him like it pained him and moving toward the door.

"This had better be—"

With barely a hand on the knob, the door swung open and Uraraka found herself holding her breath.

"Bakugo, I swear I tried—"

"Wow," Kaminari drawled as he and Sero stepped past a seething Bakugo, an only mildly apologetic looking Mina on their heels.

Bakugo stood at the door glaring at someone outside. "Shitty Hair," he growled.

Kirishima stepped into view, his hands raised in surrender. "I swear I tried to stop them. Kaminari stole my phone and texted Midoriya for your address."

"Bro!" Kaminari said.

Kirishima shot him a look before turning back to Bakugo. "They refused to wait to talk to you tomorrow."

"I'm going to murder all of you."

Mina grinned over her shoulder from where she was eyeing some of the family pictures in the entryway. "Yeah, yeah Blasty."

"Especially you," Bakugo said, but his gravelly voice was flat— empty of the actual violence he was capable of. Uraraka smiled to herself watching him interact with his friends.

"Sorry, man," Sero said, adjusting on his feet next to a still wary Kirishima. "We just couldn't wait. You won't believe what Toru told us."

"You came to my house uninvited to gossip?" Bakugo asked, still angry. "When I'm going to see all of you in twelve hours?"

"Well maybe if you ever answered your phone," Kaminari said as he stepped away from the door and into the living room only to lock eyes with Uraraka.

She offered him a meek wave.

"Uraraka?" he said, genuinely dumbfounded.

"What!" Mina chirped, running up next to Kaminari only to bolt for the couch when she saw her classmate. She wrapped her in a quick hug before the evil grin finally stretched across her pink face.

Uraraka was sure her face was probably the same color.

"I can see why you've been so distracted." Kirishima elbowed Bakugo with a smile. Bakugo raised a threatening hand in return, sparks alight in his palm.

"What are you guys doing?" Mina pried.

Uraraka tried not to blush any further and failed. "Homework."

"Ah," Kaminari said. "A study date."

"It's not a date!" Uraraka and Bakugo shouted at the same time.

Mina and Kirishima shared a look and a very presumptuous grin.

Uraraka couldn't even be mad at them — they were right.

"So is he your 'again after school' guy?"

Never mind. Uraraka decided she was going to kill them too.

"What?!" Sero and Kaminari blurted out, turning to an enraged Bakugo that she might dare say looked like he was pouting— in a furious, flustered way.

"Since when have you two been dating?" Kaminari asked, looking between Uraraka and Bakugo, who was actively trying to scorch a hardened Kirishima.

Uraraka avoided eye contact with Mina.

"We're not dating, morons," Bakugo snapped, releasing the collar of Kirishima's shirt.

"Sure looks like it," Sero said, sidestepping away from the carnage of Bakugo's rage.

"Did you see the way he—"

"Yes!" Kirishima said to Mina. That boy was fearless.

Bakugo growled and looked over at Uraraka. Surprisingly, she didn't mind their assumptions as much as she thought she would — though she could do without the embarrassment of being so exposed. She offered him a light shrug which seemed to soothe him a bit.

"Wow, I never would have guessed you guys would be the first couple in our class," Kaminari said. "I really thought—"

"Shut the fuck up, Dunce Face," Bakugo snapped.

Kaminari did not falter, instead turning to Sero with a shit-eating grin.

She realized that the so-called Bakusquad was seemingly unaffected by Bakugo's threats, so she decided to try another strategy. "What's your gossip?" she asked no one in particular.

When the group shared knowing glances, she grew nervous. Almost like he'd grown a sense for her crippling fear, Bakugo finally shut the door and made his way back to the couch.

"Well," Sero said, "it actually has a bit to do with you too."

"We just didn't feel like it was our place to tell you," Kirishima added as the boys meandered into the living room behind Bakugo.

He took his original seat beside Uraraka, and they both ignored Mina's excited glances between them.

"But you can tell Bakugo?"

He adjusted beside her and she naturally moved too, keeping their hips touching as he leaned back into the corner of the couch.

"I don't want to hear this shit," Bakugo said and she couldn't help but feel like it was for her benefit.

Her face still felt a little puffy from her earlier breakdown.

Mina softened. "Guys, maybe we shouldn't—"

"Nah," Kaminari said. "We can graze over Uraraka's part."

Uraraka frowned.

"What the fuck is it already," Bakugo growled, his patience thinning.

Uraraka noticed the upside-down textbook on the floor and wondered if it would give them away, her thoughts drifting to the feeling of his lips on hers before she reigned herself back into the room.

"The League of Villains wants to meet with you, Midoriya, and All Might," Sero said and Kirishima scratched the back of his neck nervously as he took a seat on an adjacent couch.

"That's ridiculous," Uraraka said, barely noticing she'd said the thought out loud.

Mina exchanged another look with Kirishima. "It's true. They sent a letter with Deku after his encounter yesterday morning," she said, bringing her attention back to the couple on the couch.

Wait — not a couple, Uraraka corrected internally. She and Bakugo are not a couple.

"And dropped another off at the school," Kirishima added.

"How do you know?" Uraraka heard from her own lips as she felt herself fading back into her mind. If the letter had come from _him_…

She turned to Bakugo who met her eyes as Kaminari explained.

"Toru overheard the teachers talking about it in the hall and decided to go full secret agent to find out the whole story."

Sero nodded. "She literally stripped down in the teacher's lounge. Principal Nezu was talking to All Might and Aizawa about it."

"What idiots," Bakugo said, tearing his eyes from Uraraka.

"I know right?" Mina said. "As if the school would let students meet with the League of Villains privately."

"I mean, it is with All Might," Kaminari said. "I think it would be a good opportunity to kick bad guy ass."

Kirishima was watching Bakugo nervously and Uraraka felt him tense when he made eye contact. The redhead looked between Bakugo and Uraraka, clenching and unclenching his teeth.

"Spit it out," Bakugo told him.

"Don't you want to know how it ties in with Uraraka?" he asked.

She tensed. Did they know about her? About her past? About _him_? Did the whole school know now?

She didn't want to tell them that she already knew. She already knew how this tied in with her — how her stalker who had killed her best friend had now approached another.

"Does it matter?" she tried to sound normal, but the sound came out too sharp and she found her fingers twitching to reach for Bakugo.

The four of them shared a look before Kirishima cleared his throat. "They want to meet with them to give back your parents."

They all noticed when Bakugo moved his arm over her shoulders, but none of them said anything this time. Their pity was as heavy as Bakugo's eyes boring down on her.

"That's not all Toru found out though," Mina said with a tentative voice.

"Yeah," Sero said. "They're not canceling the summer camp like we all thought they were."

Uraraka forgot about the UA training camp - she wasn't even sure if her parents had signed her permission slip before they disappeared. She eased further into Bakugo's side despite their witnessing classmates.

"Apparently they just changed locations to somewhere top secret and didn't want to bring it up in class again until they were sure or not that we could go," Kaminari shrugged.

Their conversation continued on without her - and without Bakugo who sat quietly at her side. When they finally mumbled something about curfew and left, Uraraka had a hard time meeting Bakugo's waiting eyes as she collected their schoolwork.

"I'll go, you know," he said finally.

She nearly dropped her bag. He approached her from where he'd been watching her near the front door and scooped the strap of the bag from her hands, collecting his own and throwing them both over his shoulder.

His nearness wasn't the alarming presence it was the day of the Sports Festival. She was growing used to the quickness behind his eyes, the sharpness of his jaw, and the pressure of him so close to her. He was no longer the intimidating Bakugo she'd known from a distance - this was the Bakugo only she knew.

"I don't want you to go."

His eyes narrowed, the typical harsh lines of his scowl missing. He searched her face, tracing a knuckle across her cheek.

"If they ask me to go, I'm going."

A strange thing twisted in her throat. She reached up and grabbed his hand against her skin, breathing in the sweet smell of his quirk.

"I don't want to lose you too," she whispered.

His brow bent as he reeled in her words, scanning her eyes. He cupped her head with his other hand and brought his forehead down to her own. With a sigh, he kissed her - a slow, lingering kiss - before he pulled away and offered her one quick nod.

They made their way to his room, changed, and crawled into bed in a familiar embrace - like they'd done it a million times more than the single night they'd shared together.

Neither of them slept well.


	14. Heaven - Solence

Katsuki Bakugo loved to blow shit up.

The explosion itself wasn't the addiction, but the power behind it — the growth. There had been a time when the crackling light show he used for threats and bravado was all the strength he could muster. Now his limits only pressed him so far as his body could withstand the kickback.

Adrenaline came naturally with his quirk, whether from the sight and feel of the blasts themselves or from an instinct buried in him from his years of training. It fueled him. When he was alone exploring the scope of what power he could produce, there were no limits, only expectations.

His passion tended to express itself as less of a drive and more as a hostile beast.

Bakugo held his crouch, eyeing Uraraka as she pulled up a knee to stand. She rubbed the dirt from her palms against her hips and raised her fists once more. Something burned in him when he looked at her as the sun cracked over the horizon. Something different than the taste of heat he'd felt in her kiss the day before.

Today he was, well, he was kind of pissed off.

She came at him again, only slightly faster than she had been during lunch yesterday. Her speed was not from her muscles — no, she hadn't had enough time to build her body up like that —but from her mind. She was learning. She leaned forward, revealing her next move and he lifted a guard, keeping his other arm in tight to protect his middle.

Uraraka was frustrated. He could see the change in her eyes as their training had droned on and yet she hadn't said anything. His instruction today had been minimal and most of his clipped words had been brutish and criticizing. But he just couldn't stop himself, couldn't find a breath of patience amidst his swirling mind, and instead had chosen to fight his way to peace.

Or at least just let off some steam.

She feinted, dipping to the ground and whipping out a leg — a strategy he'd only shown her once their first morning of training. He jumped back and away, but she clipped the toe of his sneaker and his balance slipped away.

Her eyes locked with his in a surprisingly haughty grin.

She looked down to where her fingers connected with the soft earth and his train of vision followed. Sucking in a heavy breath, she let out a guttural noise and pressed into the ground with force.

His brow furrowed as he moved to right himself, preventing his fall.

And then he was weightless.

But he didn't have time to see the way the pebbles from the yard floated gently around him in the dim morning light like a nebula of dirt and debris. Uraraka grabbed his ankle as she sprung from her crouch, lifting him up and over her shoulder. She spun with him in her grasp overhead and slammed him face first into the crisp, green grass.

"Release," she gasped, her breaths coming in quick.

Bakugo grit his teeth, sinking his elbows into the ground to rise up and rubbed a hand across his face. "You've been holding out on me, Cheeks."

He turned to see her stretching her arms as she stepped back to get ready to go again. "We've never used our quirks before," she said. "I thought it might be a cheap shot."

Pushing himself up to face her, he considered this. He rolled his neck. "We'll need a bigger playing field than my backyard or a school training room to go all out."

She nodded.

"But you can give me your all anytime," he added, taking in her responding blush with a flustering feeling that eased the tension he'd woken up with. "Let's go."

She fell into step beside him easily, her shoulder brushing against his arm. It was a comfort he was growing used to at a startling pace. His parents weren't around this morning for whatever reason, which wasn't out of the norm. He made the two of them a quick breakfast, noting the way Uraraka typically jumped in to help with anything she could around the house - except for cooking. Food in their stomachs, showers taken, and their bentos packed, they ended up with a few spare minutes before Cementoss came to pick them up.

They spent it making out some more.

Bakugo could hardly justify it in his mind; One minute she's walking over for her lunch, then he's turning toward her and she's just so close, smelling so clean. Then she's backed up against the kitchen counter, hands on his chest and he's pressing his body into hers, relishing the taste of her… again and again.

He nearly scorched the marble when a knock sounded at the door starting their school day.

The ride to U.A. was filled with Uraraka's musings about their upcoming tests and questions about the dorms that he didn't have answers to. Normally he'd be annoyed by someone talking so much, but after seeing her broken, quiet states, he decided he preferred her this way. He held her hand, a gesture she accepted without falter, but with a blush. She used their combined hands along with her free one to motion through her words - a ridiculous thing Bakugo had rolled his eyes about.

But when they arrived on campus, he'd let her go. She hadn't balked when he'd reflexively put an arm around her in front of the morons yesterday, and despite the fear she'd shared with him last night, he still didn't know what he was to her - what they were to each other. He wasn't blind or stupid - he could see that she was accepting him, reciprocating his feelings to an extent. Yet when there was so much else going on in her life, constructing finite boundaries to what they were doing seemed… inappropriate.

It was frustrating.

Bakugo thrived in order and discipline. He kept his possessions in place. He had a routine. When he committed, he showed up. He set rules for himself and as long as he followed them, he earned the desired results.

This… this gray area was not faring so well in his head.

Still, she was there. She stayed with him. She kissed him. She held his hand and slept in his arms. She looked for him when they were apart and she stepped up to his challenges.

So, for now, he would live in the gray area.

Even if he wanted to blow the whole fucking concept into dust.

They stepped into class side by side, finding their seats without a parting word. He summoned his seemingly lost independence to keep from looking over at her in the back of the classroom when Shitty Hair and Dunce Face crowded his desk.

"What do you fuckers want now?"

Dunce Face was grinning and Bakugo knew exactly what the horny dumbass was thinking about. He glared back at him.

"You coulda told us you and Uraraka were dating, you know?" Shitty Hair said, adjusting on his feet a little which left enough room for Bakugo to see Frogger over at Uraraka's desk talking with her and a turned around Iida.

"Idiots," Bakugo scoffed. "I already told you we're not dating."

Dunce Face laughed. "Right."

"I mean, I get that with everything going on with her you might want to lie low, but you can trust us," Shitty Hair said. "I can't believe the League of Villains kidnapped her parents."

"That's probably why we're moving into dorms," Dunce Face added.

Bakugo's upper lip twitched. "Shut up about that," he said, leaning forward in his seat and resting his elbows. "And tell everyone else who knows to keep it quiet."

"Aye aye," Dunce Face said with a salute as Shitty Hair opened his mouth only for Aizawa to walk in. They rushed back to their desks.

"Alright," Aizawa started, sounding as if he was biting back a yawn. "We have some announcements today." The class hushed and Bakugo reclined in his chair. "First of all: Move in day is tomorrow. You'll have from 0800 hours to 1700 hours to complete the process - including unpacking. I don't want any of the time you all should be using studying later on wasted on petty decorating."

Pinky let out a quiet sound of despair and Dunce Face whispered something to her.

Aizawa eyed them and they snapped to attention.

"And second," he said, his shoulders slumped, "you all might have forgotten about the summer training camp. I admit I've avoided the topic for the last few weeks, due to the possibility of its cancellation. However, the staff have met and come to the decision to follow through. The location has been changed and will not be disclosed to you or your parents, though they've all been mailed the notice of its continuation and safety measures."

The teacher let out a sigh. "You'll have Sunday to prepare. We leave Monday."

"What?!" a chorus sounded from the class.

Bakugo hid his surprise, clenching his jaw before relaxing again. He'd known of the camp, though a date had never been set. He wasn't opposed to going, considering the amount of training he'd be able to put in. It would be a week solely focused on growing their quirks - one of his favored activities.

"So soon?" Frogger said.

Pinky shot up in her seat. "Sensei! Don't we need more time to prepare?"

Aizawa waved a hand, quieting anyone else who was about to spout off. "You have Saturday to unpack and Sunday to pack again. Figure it out."

And then he left. Classes continued as usual. Bakugo's note taking was crisp and full of a shorthand that helped him stow away all of the new information for easy recall. He fought with the restlessness from this morning that had soured his mood before Uraraka's giddy ramblings in the car had dispelled it. A part of him knew what was twisting in his gut - royally pissing him off, really - but he didn't want to think about it.

Didn't want to think about his silent agreement from last night.

When lunch came, he remained in his seat, telling Shitty Hair, Dunce Face, and Tape Arms to shove off and giving Uraraka a nod toward the door - urging her to go on without him when she'd met his eyes holding her bento.

He waited until everyone had filtered out of the room before throwing his bag over his shoulder and heading out to a destination he'd yet to have ever visited. The teacher's lounge was open, the door propped ajar as a few pros he wasn't familiar with ducked in and out.

"Yo! McSplode!" his least favorite teacher appeared, his blonde hair feathered high above his head and a croissant in hand.

Bakugo frowned. "Is Aizawa here?"

"Affirmative, baby hero!" He turned into the room. "Let me just-"

Aizawa appeared behind Present Mic, startling him.

"Shota! I could've dropped my croissant!"

Aizawa and Bakugo both ignored him until he finally walked away grumbling.

"Bakugo."

He crossed his arms, trying to level himself with the prowess of his perpetually irritated teacher. "I know about the letter."

Aizawa paused before removing the doorstop and stepping out of the teacher's lounge. They backed up away from the door, sticking near the wall. "And are you going to tell me how you gained this information?"

"Doesn't matter," he said as he bore the weight of his teacher's gaze. "I want to go."

Aizawa scanned Bakugo's face before letting out a sharp breath, closing his eyes. "That's not happening."

"Bullshi-"

"I suggest you stop right there," Aizawa said, his hands hanging limp at his sides. "It's not an option and never has been. It's obviously a trap for the three of you."

"All Might would go," Bakugo pressed.

"Wrong. All Might has the mind to know what the villains hope to gain. Their leverage is likely only a bluff and even if it weren't, the odds that the villains would hold to any semblance of honor and the three of you would make it out unscathed is miniscule."

Bakugo dipped his chin.

"Your intentions are that of a hero," Aizawa said. "But heighten your awareness to the bigger picture. The pros are working with the police now that we have the knowledge of who your friend's parents are with and the investigation is confidential. If anything breaks, she'll be the first to know about it."

Bakugo raised his face to his teacher, tension pinching at his features, and grunted an assent.

"Now go eat and leave me alone."

. . .

Bakugo stared into warm, brown eyes completely bewildered.

"What did you just say to me?"

Uraraka knit her brows, her eyes darting around the backseat of Cementoss' car. "Uh, I asked if you were okay."

His lips parted and he studied her. "Why are you asking me that?"

Her concern morphed into an incredulousness. "Because you skipped lunch and you're being quiet?"

"I train during lunch sometimes and I'm always quiet." Okay, not _always_. Sometimes he was yelling. But that's besides the point. Since when did anyone ask him if he was okay? Since when did he let them?

"I don't know," Uraraka said. "You just seemed off."

He eyed her. "I'm fine."

"Okay," she said quickly.

"Okay then."

He turned away from her. Cars passed by in the tinted windows, the sun glaring in at an odd angle. Expecting her to pick up a new topic or even shift away from him on the upholstered bench seat, her lingering presence was a buzzing feeling pressed firmly into his side.

"I talked to Aizawa about the letter."

"You what?" she snapped, her high-pitched voice quieter than it had been. "When?"

"During lunch," he growled, annoyed. "He said they're not going through with the meet up, but the pros are working with the police on your case now."

She was silent for a beat and he slid his eyes to her. Her head was cast low, staring at the floorboards. "You asked to go, didn't you?"

Bakugo wasn't sure why her words filled him with dread. "Yeah."

She swallowed heavy, letting a pause fill the space between them. She reached for his hand.

"Thanks," she said.

He froze for a moment before he said, "You'll be the first to know when they're onto something."

She nodded, raising her chin to look out the front window at the street ahead. He twisted his hand in her grip, intertwining their fingers and she leaned on his shoulder for the rest of the drive home.

. . .

Packing was not his strong suit - though he'd never packed all of his things before, much less attempted to organize an overly helpful Uraraka. She'd seemed to slow down her zeal after dinner, which he survived without undergoing anymore of her ganging up on him with his parents.

"You could just do homework, you know," he said as he taped together another cardboard box.

She sat on the floor of his bedroom, determinedly folding the clothes from his dresser into a duffle bag. "This is kind of nice."

He set down the All Might figurine from his desk on top of some stuffing that concealed his game system in the box closest to his door marked _fragile_. "It's weird," he said stepping around a box of his video games and collected books to open his top drawer nearly over her head. He emptied the sock and underwear drawer into a new bag, keeping the contents out of her sight before tossing it on a stack of finished boxes.

"Yeah, well, we're weird all the time," she answered, tucking another pair of sweatpants away.

"I'm not weird," he argued.

She laughed in a huffing sound. "You're so weird."

"You wanna go, Cheeks?"

She waved him off. "Save it for the morning, tough guy."

Bakugo narrowed his eyes at her. "Tch. I'm not weird."

"You didn't know my name a week ago."

His mouth popped open and he scowled at her. "So?"

She set down the last pair of sweats from the drawer unfolded in her lap. When she turned to look up at him, he found himself taking in the full view her face like he'd done many times before, recording the pink of her cheeks and the light in her eyes. "_So_ \- now we're… _this_."

"This?"

Her shoulders dropped and she scanned the room before meeting his stare again. "You know," she said. "Whatever this is. That we're doing."

He bit back a grin and ignored the way his heart picked up. "Not sure what you mean, Princess. What is _this_?"

Uraraka blushed and he couldn't look away. "_You know_, like, uh, making out, and stuff."

"I like making out with you."

She bit her lip. "I like making out with you too," she said, pausing. "So _that's_ why it's weird," she said, matter-of-fact.

He bent, crouching down beside her with his arms resting on his knees. "What's weird?" he asked, telling himself that he wasn't baiting her - wasn't trying to hold her hand through the conversation that had plagued his mind on more than one occasion.

"You!" Her eyebrows raised, the corners of her mouth upturning. "You didn't know my name a week ago and now we're basically dating!"

"But we're not dating."

She dropped her head, suddenly needing to examine her finger pads. Just when he started to think he'd fucked up, she whispered, "Why not?"

"Why aren't we dating?" he asked her, repeating the question more to beat it into his own skull than to confirm what she'd said. Was she really asking him that? Did she really not understand how atrociously obsessed with her he'd become?

"Yeah," she said from behind the veil of the longer pieces of her hair.

"Cheeks," he said, his voice coming out rougher than he'd meant it to. She whipped around to look him in the eye. "I've told you how I feel. I've said it more than once."

She pressed her lips together, searching his face.

"You want something, you just gotta say something," he added.

"Oh." Her eyes widened. "Okay."

"Okay?" He was really going to blow something up if they were going to do another fucking round of the bullshit roudabout 'okay' thing.

"You want to be my boyfriend?"

Well. When she put it like that.

"Boyfriend is a stupid word."

For whatever reason, she was grinning now - a big, shit-eating grin. "Then I'll make sure to say it all the time."

"You're impossible," he sneered.

Her grin faded into a smile that he found himself slowly mirroring. He reached out a knuckle to her cheek and she picked up on her knees and kissed him.

"Thank you," she said against his lips. "For everything."

"Hn," he grunted as she pulled away.

"You're such a good boyfriend," she said as she started to fold his last pair of pants.

"You're completely infuriating," he growled, snatching the bottoms from her grip and tossing them aside. Taking her face in both hands, he kissed her again.

So infuriating.


	15. I Don't Sleep - Sarcastic Sounds

He found her.

_Shouldn't have lost her in the first place._

It took a whole, miserable day.

_Useless._

But he finally found Ochaco Uraraka again.

He'd been well accustomed to her routine of walking home from school. That green-haired boy had been her shadow - always going out of his way to drop her off at her door before turning around and heading off to the nearest bus stop. However, after her first day back from school, he never saw her leave the grounds.

Her absence felt like a bleeding wound somewhere in the depths of his already shattered mind. He spiraled.

_You're crazy, Jin. Never forget. _

What if she'd left him? What if she'd run away - into the future that was supposed to be so perfectly molded for the two of them together without him? What if she knew the truth? What if she knew that deep down he would never be good enough for her - that no one would be?

_Of course she did. _

It tore him apart.

But he'd returned again the next day.

With her parents still safe little marbles with Compress, he'd had little else to do. Besides, he needed to protect her. He hadn't forgotten the blonde boy who'd followed her around the day of the Sports Festival.

The nerve of him.

_Kill him. _

So he'd posted himself in his usual spot, a back and forth between the bus stop a few blocks over and the alley just a few meters from the gates of UA High School. He had the time to wait, though tonight he was actually required to be with the League. Boss had requested the use of his quirk for a meeting after dark, giving him a few hours to waste.

_She's never a waste. _

He shook his head in a brisk, subtle motion as he adjusted his back against the warm brick building. He should have waited at the bus stop longer before strolling as naturally as possible over to the alleyway, but he couldn't help himself.

He was eager.

Students filtered from the gate in small bursts, typically sticking to the sidewalks along the raised walls of protection the school so boldly offered the aspiring _heroes_.

_What a waste. _

He wouldn't have noticed normally, but he suspected that something simply drew her to him when he caught sight of a familiar face staring out of a car window.

It was _him_.

The boy was glaring out from the backseat of a dark SUV, his red eyes stark even through the tint. When he whipped his head away, she was there.

She was there.

He kicked off the wall, emerging from the pocket of the alleys he'd always been so fond of. His eyes glued to them, memorizing the car and the license plate number even as the afternoon sun glared across the thin piece of metal. He needed to know where they were going.

But following a vehicle through the bustling streets was a task even too great for him.

_You can't save her. _

_She doesn't even want to be saved. _

_She needs you. _

His feet dragged against the pavement, bystanders in school uniforms passing him by as the car faded away.

. . .

"Why are you pouting now?" Dabi shot across the table. He was stretched out in the old wooden chair, his long legs spread and his hands clasped behind his head.

Twice couldn't look at him - couldn't see anything but Uraraka and the blonde in the backseat of a car. He clenched his jaw, feeling the movement in the fist he rested his chin on against the table.

Dabi released an annoyed breath. "I gotta say, I don't get it."

_Of course he doesn't. _

_No one does. _

_No one can. _

_No one ever has. _

Twice shifted his elbow before his forearm fell asleep.

"I mean, she's just some girl," Dabi continued. "What's the big deal?"

A vision of doppelganger mud splattered through his memories. She was there. She had been _right there_ and he'd just… watched her die.

He couldn't let it happen again.

He had to save her.

So they could run.

But Dabi didn't know the truth that he did.

_Lies. _

He could never be sure he was the original - never know whether or not he was the Twice that was meant to make it out of that night and so many nights after that. He was a myth, a ghost, a relic of whoever Jin had once been.

And maybe, just maybe, if he connected with the real Uraraka she could be the one to finally show him whether or not he was right. Maybe she was the key to this all along.

"Everyone's gotta have a purpose."

Dabi raised a brow at him. "Not really. Life is pretty meaningless when you really think about it."

Twice narrowed his eyes at the younger villain - a gesture the other couldn't see behind the mask pulled across his rough mop of short shaggy hair and stretched down over his nose and cheekbones. "There's more," he insisted.

"You realize we're talking about your crush on a teenaged girl?"

"It's not like that!"

"Yeah," Dabi huffed. "Okay."

"You don't know anything about her," he heard himself say.

_Like her favorite color is pink. _

_She loves hot chocolate and mochi. _

_Her laugh is adorable. _

Dabi shook his head. "Don't need to - thanks." He rolled his neck as the door to the back rooms opened over his shoulder. "Maybe we should introduce you to someone your own age," he said, then added, more to himself, "or even actually getting Toga to give you a chance would be better than this."

Boss strolled in, a tangible tension following in his wake as he made his way to his barstool. He sat, his fingers taking to a tapping rhythm against the dark wood of the counter.

"I heard that," Twice snapped. "It's not the same."

He loved Toga.

He knew he did, but their relationship had withered to dust the night Uraraka died in that fat man's mansion. He loved her, but it wasn't the same.

They worked together now, a fact she was almost blissfully unaware of, and though he felt the rush beneath his skin when she was near - he could never see her without thinking of that night, of all the doubles - of _her_.

A bang broke through the growing tension in the room. Twice and Dabi turned toward Shigaraki.

_Bad hair day?_

_Shut up. _

"You," their boss cursed under his breath.

Dabi's already impassive face dropped lower.

"Er, who?" Twice dared, snapping out of his existential crisis.

_As if. _

Shigaraki slumped over the bar, his spine an alarming curve in the low light. He pulled back an arm, slow and languid, pointing a finger. "You."

"Me?" Twice said, shifting his eyes between Dabi and the boss.

A growl rolled from Shigaraki's chest, growing into a shout. "They're not coming. You _lied _to me."

"Who's not coming?"

Dabi turned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Those kids and All Might. That's what those letters were about."

"They were supposed to come here?" Twice asked, incredulous.

Shigaraki's face darkened as he spun on his bar stool to face them. "They were supposed to leave a sign of acceptance - then the location would be arranged for tonight." He tipped back his chin, scratching his neck. "You said they _cared _about that girl. You said they had ties."

Twice was confused. "They do," he said. "Why would they-"

"He offered the heroes her parents in exchange for the meet up," Dabi said. "And they ignored him - totally left him on read."

Another growl stirred in Shigaraki's chest as he glared at Twice. "Those idiots," he snarled. "No more doing this your way."

"My way?"

"They don't want to accept my generosity? Fine," Shigaraki said, intensifying his scratching. "We'll teach them never to ignore us ever again."

Twice pushed out a frown that no one could see, turning to Dabi and tilting his head in silent question.

"I don't even fucking know, man," he said.

"Dabi," Shigaraki said, lowering his arm. "I need you to make some friends - fast."

"Hoo hoo," Twice laughed. "That'll be your hardest mission yet, eh?"

A sharp look from Shigaraki silenced Twice's fun.

"I want a team. Get Giran in on it," he commanded. "And you," he eyed Twice, "get with Mr. Compress. You're going to need your hostages - and not in the form of marbles."

Twice nodded slowly, remembering just how much Uraraka looked like her mother. A vision of her head peeking over the blonde's shoulder in the backseat came to his mind unbidden.

They'd been sitting so close.

"What are you going to do with them?" he asked.

"Those heroes think they're too good for a face to face with the League of Villains?" Shigaraki said. "Let's prove them wrong."

"Let's show them what ignoring the League of Villains will get them."


	16. Falling For U - Peachy!

Ochaco Uraraka woke up the next morning before Bakugo did.

And it was... pretty freakin' weird.

She smiled softly into her pillow at the thought.

Yep, they were weird.

Last night's conversation spun in her drowsy mind. She could barely remember the time when Bakugo's presence was alarming, when she'd been so confused as to why he was suddenly so keen on spending time with her. How was that only a few days ago?

Now he had made himself a fixture in her life and she'd let him — more than that even.

_Boyfriend. _

The idea of dating anyone was foreign enough, but to be dating _Bakugo_.

Oh man, her friends were going to freak.

She hadn't dared to move an inch since opening her eyes to the darkness of his bedroom littered with moving boxes they'd yet to lug downstairs for the movers. His arms were tightly wound around her middle, his steady breaths a presence at her back. She could feel his chin pressed against the crown of her head and she absolutely could not wake him.

She'd have to wait it out until the alarms for training she knew he always set went off - even if she'd never actually woken up to them herself before.

He shifted behind her, nuzzling into her hair and she decided she didn't mind waiting.

. . .

"You didn't have to help the movers, Cheeks."

Uraraka tugged on the roll of tape that bound a chain of Bakugo's boxes as she stepped onto the UA lawn. "I didn't have to help you either, did I?"

"That mouth," he growled.

She didn't have to turn around to know he was smiling.

His leashed zero-g boxes were taped around a strap of the bag over his shoulder. The two movers that had come for Bakugo's bed, dresser, desk, and bookshelf were holding a piece per hand, the massive objects floating innocently in their grips. They'd been grateful, but… confused by the assistance.

Heights Alliance was built to match the architecture of UA itself, though Uraraka had been awestruck by just how large it was inside. They'd already checked in with a groggy Aizawa, sipping his coffee at his desk in their classroom, to receive their keys. They stepped up to their new home, a fresh feeling lightening Uraraka's chest as if her quirk were at work there too.

Change could be okay. Good, even. She could handle a new beginning. There had been a time in her life when she'd begged for clean slate - a chance to start over. UA had given her that chance, not once, but twice.

Her parents had given her that chance.

She dipped her chin to her shoulder, eyeing a menacing-looking Bakugo behind her who wore his scowl like she wore exhaustion every early morning she'd been waking up for training with him. Today had been fun, actually. He'd asked for a show of her special move she was still keeping in her back pocket from the rest of the class and when she'd lifted the gravity from her surroundings for him once more, he'd creased his brow.

"Include me," he'd told her.

She had clenched her teeth. "Come closer."

"No," he had smirked.

And that was how she'd stretched herself, growing beneath the weight of his expectations once more. When she'd managed to remove his gravity, along with any other unsuspecting garden objects between them, he shot himself into the sky. She released him almost immediately, before he disappeared from her view into the clouds. He had split the sky with his fall before catching himself with a few well-timed explosions. Then he had asked her to catch him next time.

The purpose in his eyes then was hidden deep beneath his curling features he bore now. He noticed her gaze and returned it with a pinched look.

"What?"

The word was a bark, but still she smiled knowing it could be considered gentle coming from him. Something about their decision last night and the realization of just how seriously Bakugo took his proclamations to her over the last few days emboldened her. This was real. He was real and he really cared.

He really knew everything about her past. He was really there in all her broken moments. He was there when she'd had no place to go. She had virtually shut down from everyone else in the last few days and he had managed to find a way in anyway.

So she reached back a hand.

He eyed it like a bad joke before softening with reluctance and reaching toward her. She grabbed a few of his fingers and slowed her pace to fall into step beside him, the tail of her chain of packages brushing against his.

"What are you doing?"

She swung their combined hands in the midday sun. "Nothing," she said. "I'm just… happy."

He rolled his eyes, but smiled. "Didn't know this meant I was signing up for you to hang all over me all the time, Dollface."

That was a new one. She didn't fight the blush the nickname brought to her cheeks. "I'm not hanging all over you," she said, letting go of his hand. She paused in her walk, letting him get just enough ahead of her before he stopped. Tuning out the pounding of fear in her heart before it could stop her, she jumped.

Onto his back.

"Now this is hanging all over you," she said, ignoring the weakness in her voice that she had tried to will away as her former anxiety battled with her newfound comfortable confidence.

But he caught her, their boxes jostling against each other behind them as he kept them moving toward the dorms. His arms tucked her legs into his side, his hands cupping the undersides of her knees. "You just always gotta take things to the next level, huh?"

Soothed by his response, she slipped her arms around his neck. "You know me," she said offhandedly.

"I could throw you off, you know?"

"You won't."

"I could blast us both straight up. Really ruin the fucking hairdo you spent so long on."

Uraraka tightened her hold, lowering her mouth closer to his ear. "You could," she said. "But then you'd lose all your things." She wiggled her elbow where the roll of tape had slid during her leap onto his back and rough cardboard knocked against one another somewhere behind them.

"I'd just get new things, Cheeks."

"Hey, you guys!"

They both tensed at the sound of their classmate, though Uraraka was sure Bakugo's reason was a little different than hers.

Deku ran up beside them, a slower moving Todoroki and Ojiro trailing behind them. Each carried a box of a varying shade of generic brown.

She waited a moment to see if Bakugo would try to set her down, but he held her firmly in place despite his refusal to completely turn and acknowledge the other boys. She raised a hand from Bakugo's collar to wave. "Hey guys!"

"Have you gone inside yet?" Deku asked, his eyes sliding back and forth between her and Bakugo in a stream of questions she knew her rambly friend would undoubtedly be thinking.

Smart of him not to ask them out loud.

"Do we look like we've been inside yet, Deku?"

Their train of moving boxes felt more conspicuous than it had originally.

"That's really clever use of your quirk, Uraraka," Ojiro said. "Wish I had something that helpful," he chuckled.

Todoroki watched them, his face unreadable. "Doesn't that strain your nausea?"

Uraraka hummed. "No, I've been working on it."

"That's awesome," Deku said, always the champion for others. "What floor are you guys on?"

"The fourth," she answered, a convenient fact to cover for Bakugo's bristling.

Deku's gaze darted between them again. "Both of you? That's cool."

"You too are going to make the curfew more strict, aren't you?" Todoroki said.

Deku's eyes widened. "Todoroki!"

But Ojiro chuckled. "Knowing Aizawa, they'll already be pretty rough."

Bakugo squeezed her legs and Uraraka jumped a bit on his back. It would probably be the kindest social cue she'd ever receive from him, so she obliged. "Well, I really wanna get to unpacking so we better go."

She didn't let herself think about whether or not she would actually have anything to unpack.

"Right!" Deku chirped a little too quickly. "See you guys later."

They took off the last few meters of the brick walkway to the Heights Alliance building and Bakugo waited for them to step inside before moving again, dragging their floating boxes behind them. He didn't set her down until they were on the concrete porch, holding the door open as she gently tugged both of their ropes of boxes inside. They corralled them into the boys elevator, much to Bakugo's distaste, and when Bakugo joined them, she moved back into the common room hall.

He raised a brow at her, as if he'd expected her to follow him and his seemingly enchanted things.

"I'm gonna check out my own room," she said. "Text me when the boxes are inside and I'll release?"

He offered a brisk nod. "Later, Cheeks."

Riding the elevator up to her new room required more courage than she'd expected it to and when she unlocked the door and saw the empty room, she was proud of herself for not getting her hopes up too far. She pulled out her phone to check for Bakugo's text and it was there along with a few others. She released, picturing what the movers' faces might look like as the furniture crashed down. Maybe Bakugo had warned them.

Probably not.

She had a few texts from a group chat the class had apparently started last night and she skimmed the contents before deciding to check on the other messages.

**Tsuuu: im on the fifth floor, where are you?**

Ready to get away from her barren bedroom, she made for the elevator to find Tsu in person. The girl had apparently been well prepared and had an early start. Her things were already halfway unpacked by the time she had answered Uraraka's new text about being on her floor to see her. They spent the morning arranging her things and Uraraka found a peacefulness to the methodical task, glad that Tsu preferred to talk about school and heroism. The girl wasn't one quick to jump into personal conversation despite her ability to cut straight through to the point once it was already brought up.

But, well…

Tsu had a lot of sentimental items from her parents and siblings.

When lunchtime rolled around the group chat lit up, calling for a meeting downstairs and the girls decided to see what was going on.

A small group was already assembled on the boys' side common room closest to the kitchen. All the girls were strewn across the couches while Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero stood behind them.

"It'll be fun!" Kaminari said.

Jiro's unimpressed voice came next. "Fun for you guys."

"We're not even done setting them up yet," Mina argued.

"So?"

The elevator dinged just as Uraraka and Tsu stepped around the corner toward their gathered friends. The same crew of boys from earlier stepped out and Uraraka wondered what could have possibly made Todoroki join in on the social activity. The thought made her reach for her phone in her pocket.

**Uraraka: Are you coming down?**

"What will be fun?" Tsu asked.

"He wants us to give tours of our rooms," Toru said, the sleeve of her shirt adjusting like she'd raised her arm onto the back of the couch to see them approach.

Uraraka held her breath. She was enjoying letting herself open up to being around all of her friends again, but the idea of them learning that she had no things - that her things were currently being detained by the police - made her want to hole up in a safe place where no one could touch her.

**Bakugo: Why would I do that?**

"That seems a little intrusive," Ojiro said as he, Deku, and Todoroki came up behind them.

"We could make it a game!" Kaminari pressed.

Uraraka glanced back at her phone.

**Uraraka: please?**

"I don't know," Momo said, her lips pursed. "I encourage getting to know each other better, but, like Ashido said, most of our rooms aren't completely unpacked yet."

"And some of the class is missing," Mina added.

"_They _probably decided to keep unpacking to stick to Aizawa's schedule," Jiro said.

Sero placed a tape-laden elbow on Kaminari's shoulder. "We could always make it a contest. We could vote on the best room?"

"I mean, it would be nice to know where everyone's at," Kirishima said.

"I suppose," Tsu said. "Though we will find that out eventually anyway."

Uraraka's heart was playing a rough game of ping pong in her chest. She didn't want to flee from her friends, but she couldn't help but think the only thing that kept her in place was the fact that she had nowhere to go. She could go up to her room, lock herself inside. But then her thoughts turned into a war of what was better: to stay and try to find a way to avoid anyone seeing her room, or sitting alone in inside of it, void of any of the personal effects only within reach of the police.

A not-so-gentle reminder of her life outside of UA.

The elevator dinged and conversation paused until Bakugo stepped around the corner, a full scowl of annoyance plastered across his face.

"Bakugo!" Kirishima called. "I thought you said you didn't want to come?"

He moved toward the wall of the boys' side common room, leaning against its corner in between his friends and where Uraraka stood with Tsu. "I'm here now, Shitty Hair. What's this about?"

"Kaminari wants to play a game," Deku informed him.

Bakugo's mouth popped open, seemingly incredulous as to why he'd demeaned himself to joining them. "Are you fucking serious?"

"He wants to tour everybody's rooms and vote on the best one," Mina said, shooting the accused a glare.

Uraraka caught the barely-there glance Bakugo shot her way at Mina's words.

"You're all morons," Bakugo said, slipping his hands into his pockets. "You know that no one is done unpacking, right?"

"Just because your room is probably terrifying, doesn't mean we can't all have some fun," Kaminari answered, to which Bakugo kicked off the wall and started for him.

"Hey, hey," Mina said, only barely slowing Bakugo as he stalked toward Kaminari. "A little fun would be kinda nice. I'm tired."

"Me too," Toru said. "Okay, what if we just show everyone where our rooms are and maybe a quick peek inside?"

"Fuck that." Bakugo halted just as Kaminari started climbing over the couch, ignoring Jiro who patted him away from her furiously.

Uraraka looked over at Tsu who widened her eyes in question. An idea popped into Uraraka's head and she spun back to the group.

"What if we just take a lunch break together?" she offered. "We can see what's already in the kitchen?" She felt herself rambling in an overeager and somewhat uncharacteristic way, but she couldn't stop the nervous energy spilling from her chest. "I could cook? Maybe we could play a game for a little bit downstairs?"

"That sounds great, Uraraka!" Deku chimed in and Ojiro stepped closer to the couches from behind her and Tsu.

"I'm in for that," he said. "I'm starving."

Momo smiled at Uraraka. "I like that idea, thank you."

"Wait, I can get my tv!" Kirishima suggested.

"Dude, you'd give up your tv for the group?" Jiro asked as Kaminari finally removed himself from her shoulder, grinning like an idiot.

"Yeah! I can always take it back up if I need to."

"I'll get my game system!" Sero offered and then they were all dispersing to grab something for the group or make some last-minute digs through their things to see if they had anything to contribute.

Tsu whispered about going back to unpacking, but that she would come down to eat with them later. She nodded in support and Tsu joined the others, retreating from the common area as she set her path to the kitchen.

Uraraka felt his eyes on her without having to look.

"You're going to cook?"

She turned against the counter and Bakugo was boldly close. An image from yesterday morning's kisses came to her mind and her thoughts started to float away from the anxious place they'd been drowning in minutes ago. She hummed an affirmation.

He tilted his head, placing his hands on either side of her. "You sure about that?"

"What?" She furrowed her brow. "You've never seen me cook."

"Exactly," he said. "And with your obnoxiously helpful self, there's got to be a reason for that."

Fuck, he was right.

Wait, fuck?

She never said fuck.

"Nope," she muttered quickly. "I cook all the time."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep."

"What're you going to make, then? For - what? - fifteen people? And what if the other idiots decide to show up? All twenty people in the class? That's a lot of cooking, Cheeks."

She clenched her jaw, knowing he'd see it. "Okay, fine. I'm a terrible cook."

One side of his lips upturned. "How terrible?"

Her shoulders slackened, her eyes darting past him to make sure they were alone. "Bad."

"What? You burn shit?"

"More like set it completely on fire."

He raised his thumb to tug on her pouting lower lip. "What're you going to do then Cheeks?"

Here it came. He knew it. She knew it.

She needed him.

"Please?" she squeaked.

But he reared back, releasing the edge of the counters. "Oh no. That worked on me once, but you can't go making a habit out of it."

Uraraka chewed the skin from her bottom lip. She reached up a hand to his chest, less tentative than she'd been this morning with their touches, and rolled onto her toes to kiss his cheek. He stood, frozen, as she asked one more time.

"Please?"

When everyone returned, the meal was fresh and ready. Uraraka pulled out all the cutlery and place settings she could find, leaving them on the free space of the kitchen counters for everyone to grab for themselves and they all filed into a line. Bakugo stood off to the side, leaning on a corner of the long dining table down the hall. The entire class had come to lunch and she wondered how Bakugo would have guessed at such a thing.

When the first bites were taken, a silence spread through the room, until finally-

"Uraraka! I had no idea you could cook like this!"

. . .

Movers and parents had come and gone through the common area the rest of the afternoon, lugging along the students' personal items. Many of them stayed for a while, setting up stacks of board games and playing a few rounds of a racing game with Sero's game system on Kirishima's tv before they inevitably had to get back to the task at hand in their rooms. Uraraka had lingered as long as she could in the common area, even after Bakugo had returned upstairs to finish his own unpacking - apparently with Kirishima. She cleaned the dirtied dishes and wiped down every surface in the kitchen before finally resigning herself to venturing back up to her empty room.

Only when she got there, it was no longer empty.

She had never had many things - but they were all there. Her furniture and a handful of boxes sat in awkward positions away from the bare walls and taped to one of the boxes was a note.

_I hope we got everything important and that the movers were gentle bringing everything over. The police only gave us a limited time inside. It was so nice to meet you and we hope to see you again soon. Keep that boy in line and make sure he calls his mother every once in a while. _

_-Masaru Bakugo_

She brushed the back of her hand against her nose, sniffling away the emotion threatening her eyes.

She spent the rest of the afternoon and evening unpacking her things slowly, taking in a new appreciation for what - and who - she held dear.

. . .

After sneaking down for a snack, Uraraka slipped into bed earlier than she normally would have. There was a safety to living within the walls of UA that she didn't know would swell within her so much and she realized she was grateful for the dorms.

However it left a new sort of cold in her night that wasn't drifting in from the soft May breeze outside.

She wrestled with herself before finally turning on her lamp and reaching for her phone. Finding his name was the easy part, committing to her idea was the hard part.

But, still, she pressed the button.

A bizarre, tinkling dial tone started, much louder than she'd been expecting, further setting off her nerves.

He wasn't going to answer this.

But then he did. After a moment of connecting, the sharp features of Katsuki Bakugo filled her screen.

"What, Cheeks?"

He was too close to the camera, red eyes blazing in the dim light of his own bedside lamp.

"I-" she started. "I just... felt weird. I don't know?"

He readjusted himself, setting the phone down on the table propped up against what she assumed was the lamp. "You always feel weird, apparently."

"You're weird too, though, remember?" The beginnings of a smile touched the corners of her mouth.

His upper lip ticked. "No," he said, clarifying. "You're weird. I never said I was weird. Get it right."

Then, before she could respond, he said, "You got your stuff?"

"Your parents went and got it all," she whispered, "for me."

"Tch, they love you. It's ridiculous."

"Now you know how I felt when you cooked with my mom."

It was the first time she'd mentioned her parents since they'd disappeared. Though the familiar weight pressed into her on all sides, she found herself relishing in the memory of her mother draping an arm around Bakugo.

_Don't worry about dinner! Katsuki and I have it all taken care of. _

"Not sorry," Bakugo said, his voice somehow even rougher over the phone. "She's fucking cool."

Uraraka smiled, misty-eyed.

"Your dad was sizing me up the whole time though."

She huffed. "Yeah, I noticed that too. Which is amazing since it was hard to notice anything beyond you demanding to spend all day with me."

"I told you," he said. "I like you."

Uraraka met his eyes through the screen still between her fingers. "I like you too, Bakugo."

"Tch, call me Katsuki," he said, quieter than before. "Or whatever."

Another small laugh rolled through her chest like last bits of the tide during a sunrise. "I'd say you can call me Ochaco, but I know you'll call me Round Cheeks or Doll Head or whatever you want."

"Yep," he agreed. "I do whatever I want."

A silence passed between them. Uraraka felt the earlier cold in her bones slipping away, comfort finally falling into place.

"Stay with me?" she asked.

He waited for a beat before heaving a large sigh and turning his phone sideways. "If this fucks up my alarms, you're dead."

She heard the click of his charger connecting and she moved to give herself the same setup. "I think it'll be fine."

"You're not out of training tomorrow," he warned, slipping deeper into the sheets she'd shared with him the night before.

She smiled, resting her head on her pillow. "Wouldn't have it any other way."


	17. Get You The Moon - Kina

Katsuki Bakugo would never admit to missing someone.

_Maybe _Uraraka, but he had no plans of being apart from her long enough to miss her. His parents, well, he would never have time to miss his parents with his mom's incessant phone calls and his dad's constant text updates on his work and whatever news had been spread about UA this time. The school's reputation had apparently been growing beyond the norm with the focus blindingly on the new first year class of heroes Bakugo just _had _to have joined.

He wouldn't admit to enjoying the spotlight either.

Just like he would never admit the rush through his blood at being able to train with Kirishima again. He hadn't missed fucking Shitty Hair himself. He saw the guy at school plenty. It was the massive contrast in combat styles from his training with Uraraka - being able to let loose and go all out in every attempt to explode the rock of a comrade.

Yeah. That was it.

"We were thinking of going to the mall later," Shitty Hair said, pulling out his phone and tossing his bag over his shoulder. The warm, omnipotent sun was almost directly above them, hours past when Bakugo had woken Uraraka via five phone calls to train at dawn. "Mina and Kaminari want to get a few things for camp."

Bakugo wouldn't call him out on using Ashido's first name, but it wasn't the first time his so-called friend had let it slip.

"Why do I care?" he said. As he dug for his own phone, his stomach rumbled between steps on the paved walkway through campus. The grounds were still littered with students moving in, though to other dorms dotted through the crisp green grass separating the residencies from the distant academic building.

"Because you should come," Kirishima said, tapping at the glass screen of his phone, completely oblivious to where he was going. Shitty Hair and the others had seemed to file in to follow in Bakugo's lead from day one and honestly?

Bakugo didn't understand it.

At first, he'd felt like they were more of the extras from middle school who attempted to form an unspoken alliance with their submissive friendship - a poor tactic meant to shield them from his unleashable ire at anything in his way. But as the weeks had dragged on the self-proclaimed friends of his had endured his wrath and his neglect and still seemed to actually care.

It was fucking stupid of them.

Still, Bakugo had dimmed his desire to set them all on fire and began to tolerate their existences slowly intertwining with his.

"Fuck that," Bakugo answered.

Tolerate.

Not encourage.

Shitty Hair sighed as Bakugo checked the single notification on his phone.

**Cheeks: I've been studying with some friends and we're gonna eat lunch afterwards if you want to join?**

He stared at the text as a breeze brushed his cheek, rustling his hair.

"You can bring Uraraka."

Bakugo snapped a glare over to Kirishima who was surprisingly not wearing a shitty, teasing grin. Flitting his eyes to something over Bakugo's shoulder, Kirishima was completely expressionless aside from the typical calm, optimism that surrounded him. Their steps were even and slow, lazy for them after a longer training session than usual as they headed back to their dorms.

Maybe it was the hunger or the ache in his muscles, but Bakugo considered Shitty Hair's offer.

Uraraka would probably like going to the mall.

"Fine," he said through terse lips.

Kirishima raised his brows, but relaxed them within a breath. "We'll leave after lunch." He adjusted the fall of his white shirt with a shrug, the neck still damp with sweat. "They've already arranged an escort, which is weird."

Bakugo grunted, typing into his phone.

**I'll go to lunch if you'll go to the mall with me and the dunce squad.**

"I guess they're just tightening security," Kirishima said. "I knew we'd need permission to leave campus, but I didn't think we'd need a chaperone."

Uraraka was typing.

"Fucking nags," Bakugo said, tipping up his chin to scan the area. His sneakers were soft on the concrete and he itched for his boots, even if he was wearing low hung sweatpants. "Thinking they need to babysit us every goddamn second."

"I guess," Kirishima said, stepping around the hedges of the brick fencing that kept watch over Heights Alliance. "What do you wanna do for lunch?"

"I have plans," he grumbled back, dropping his gaze.

**Cheeks: Deal. We're about to meet downstairs. Are you still training with Kirishima?**

"_You _have plans?" Bakugo could hear the smile in Kirishima's voice as he kept his focus on his phone, typing a response.

**We're back. Gonna shower and stuff and I'll be down.**

"Lunch date?"

Bakugo rolled his neck, reining in his temper with an abrupt sigh. "Not a date."

Kirishima seemed to think about this, pausing before, "You really like her, don't you?"

"Doesn't fucking matter to you, Shitty Hair," he said, watching the rhythmic dots of Uraraka's typing.

**Cheeks: Ok :)**

Kirishima hummed in his chest. "I'm happy for you."

"For fuck's sake," he scoffed in return. They walked into the building, sounds of cupboards closing and dishes scraping against one another softly coming from the kitchen to the left as they made their way to the elevators.

"I'm just saying," Shitty Hair went on as they stepped through the silver metal doors, "that if someone has managed to actually get your attention and your respect that's really cool. Uraraka is great."

Kirishima was a moron but he was brave, Bakugo would give him that.

"Fuck off, Shitty Hair," Bakugo said, glaring at the digital numbers declaring their ascent. He crossed his bare arms, ignoring the bristling that the small space gave him - reminding him of the tight feeling of sludge closing in on him from every angle. "I can't wait to kick your ass at this stupid camp."

They parted ways at their rooms and Bakugo fought his desire to prolong his shower to avoid socializing and wanting to rush to satisfy his still-new desire to be around Uraraka as often as possible. In the end, he'd gone no faster or slower than normal and it was about half an hour later that he found himself stepping off the elevator to the sound of conversation around the corner.

"I'm sorry guys," Uraraka said, her voice a weak whisper he remembered from a time he didn't want her to repeat. "I've just been going through a lot lately."

"And you'd rather go through it with Bakugo than us?"

Frogger's words stopped him in his tracks. He could hear the lining of betrayal in them, the hurt there. Still, her friends had no idea what they were talking about - what Uraraka had been through.

Her eyes lost in the far away place came to mind, the way she'd clung to his hand after the first meeting with Principal Nezu. Like she'd drift away into the infinity she was capable of creating somewhere deep in the clouds.

"He's," Uraraka started, stuttering. "He was there when everything started. We just really hit it off."

"When it comes to Bakugo, hitting it off is exactly what we're worried about," Icyhot cut in.

Bakugo clenched his teeth, leaning his back against the long hall of the boys side of the elevators. Was this really the perception his class had of him? He had never given a fuck what others thought of him - how ruthless or volitile they expected him to be. But did they really think he would lay hands on Uraraka? On someone he actually cared about?

It was a startling notion.

"Judge Bakugo all you want," Uraraka's tone had flattened, a sound he was accustomed to now, though more so during their training than anything else. "But don't throw around accusations like you know him."

She was mad.

She was mad that they were talking down on him.

It was a foreign, fluttering observation.

But Deku spoke up, quelling the feeling in his chest. "I know Kacchan wouldn't hurt you, Uraraka. We're all just confused."

"I was confused at first too," Uraraka said. "I just… I was shutting down from everyone and everything around me and he was there. I couldn't bring myself to reach out to anyone. I couldn't ask for help. Bakugo was there anyway. I was never trying to hurt you guys, I was just trying to hold myself together and being with Bakugo helped me do that."

He'd never heard her express so much fondness for him before, even after all his declarations - even after she'd begun to reciprocate them.

"But Bakugo is terrible," Frogger croaked.

"Disrespectful," Engine added.

"A selfish bastard," Icyhot sneered.

Bakugo's upper lip twitched and he realized how long he'd been eavesdropping. A blush burned his ears and he turned toward the corner, ready to show Icyhot what a bastard he could really be.

"He is selfish," Uraraka said. Something started to burn in Bakugo's chest. "And his selfishness taught me to be selfish too when I needed to take care of myself the most."

Oh, this girl.

This girl really was going to ruin his life.

"But he's not incapable of being thoughtful and kind," she went on and Bakugo continued around the corner, finally laying eyes on the group gathered on the floor around a wide coffee table between the couches, food dispersed between them and half eaten. "He's just…"

"Cheeks," he said. "Enough already."

Their heads spun to him, the defensiveness in many of their eyes a familiar sight. Flaring his nostrils, his brow dropped until he saw Uraraka, her face alight as she watched him approach, a blush tinting her cheeks a soft pink. It was then that he saw the second plate of food beside her own, piled high with fixings. Waiting for him.

Fuck, this girl.

Deku seemed to notice too. "Oh, that was for Kacchan?"

Uraraka's blush intensified and she nodded. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough," he said, meeting Icyhot's glare as he rounded the couches, his socks brushing against the thin carpet. He sat between Uraraka and Deku, a stiff Engine on her other side, pushing up his glasses and looking anywhere but at Bakugo.

Deku raised his hands above the table. "We didn't mean anything by it, Kacchan. Honest."

"We just wanted Uraraka to know we care and are here for her through whatever it is that she's going through," Engine added.

"Tch," Bakugo said. "She knows, morons. Maybe if you lightened up the pressure of all your own feelings about her life then she'd feel like she could talk to you fuckers about it too."

Engine's mouth popped open and Deku's shoulders dropped, his eyes widening. Icyhot looked between Bakugo and Uraraka like he was studying a villain before battle and Frogger seemed to have retreated inward between him and Deku. Bakugo retrieved the plate from in front of Uraraka and took a bite, ready to get as much down before it grew any colder. She relaxed beside him, adjusting her crossed legs so that her knee overlapped with his.

He didn't mind.

"Is that true?" Frogger whispered.

Uraraka turned to her friend with a sadness in her eyes.

"I am deeply sorry if we made you feel obligated to share things you weren't ready to, Uraraka," Engine said. "I could see how our protectiveness could have made you uncomfortable."

"It's okay," Uraraka said, her eyes twitching over to Bakugo as he ate. "I think everything happened the way it was supposed to."

"So you're alright then?" Icyhot asked.

Uraraka swallowed, picking up her chopsticks and spinning them around each other in her fingers. "There's still a lot going on."

"Does this have anything to do with Midoriya's encounter the other day, kero?" Frogger asked, definitely not lightening up her fucking pressure, but Bakugo wouldn't be the one to point that out.

Deku shot the girl a glare, but Uraraka answered.

"Yeah, actually," she paused, turning to Bakugo and he stopped chewing to look back at her. "My parents went missing the night of the Sports Festival," she said to the group, her eyes never leaving Bakugo's. He put down his utensils. "They called me to Principal Nezu's office to tell me during the hero training the next day and I asked Bakugo to stay with me."

Bakugo prickled with their private moments being exposed, but he knew this was her story to share.

"Uraraka," Deku gasped, his brows knit and eyes downcast.

Frogger's hands rose to cover her mouth. "I'm so sorry."

"Do you have any updates?" Engine asked.

Uraraka turned to face her friends and Bakugo found himself wanting to reach out and touch her. "The League of Villains kidnapped them. They don't have any leads on their whereabouts."

"So the guy who talked to Midoriya was with the League?" Icyhot asked.

Nodding, Uraraka looked at Bakugo again and he watched her fight the far away place in her eyes. "He's… I've never told anyone this," she admitted softly. "No one but Katsuki." The others' perked up at the use of his first name, but they said nothing as she continued. "That guy has been stalking me for a long time. He killed my best friend in front of me two years ago."

"Oh, Uraraka." This time Deku reached for her across the table in front of Bakugo, touching her on the shoulder just as Engine did the same. Bakugo winced and knocked his arm away for encroaching on his space.

"And now he has your parents," Frogger said and Bakugo looked at her directly for the first time, his lids lowered and a scowl on his face.

Stupid frog.

"I'm sure the police are investigating with full force," Engine said, recalling his hand from her.

Uraraka nodded again and Bakugo felt the stare of Icyhot on him like a fly he just couldn't swat away.

"Thank you for taking care of her, Kacchan," Deku said and a quiet fell over the table.

"Tch," he said. "Just wait 'til I ever come face to face with that son of a bitch."

Her friends seemed to absorb his words, looking between him and Uraraka. Finally, she held her chopsticks still from her nervous twiddling and started in on the last of her food leading the others to do the same. When conversation picked back up again, sliding a little short of grace toward schoolwork, Uraraka placed a hand on his leg below the table.

"I hope it never comes to that," she whispered, just to him.

. . .

Bakugo hated the mall.

There were too many people, too many things everywhere, and too much noise. And while he could appreciate the art of pulling a look together more than anyone expected him to, shopping was not an act he found enjoyable. He found the experience was even worse with these idiots.

"Let's go into this one!" Pinky nearly shouted, reaching out for Shitty Hair's sleeve and dragging him toward the mouth of a department store.

Dunce Face and Tape Arms laughed after them, but still followed close behind. Aizawa Sensei and Present Mic were stationed back a ways, keeping a so-called watchful eye, though it looked more like Present Mic was attempting to talk Aizawa to death. Bakugo couldn't figure out why the constantly exhausted teacher had even come if Present Mic had been willing to be their escort off campus.

Bakugo raised a hand. "Alright, Cheeks. What do you want to do?"

"Well, we're supposed to stay together," she said, taking his hand. The touch was still a new comfort, a new public affection that meant something different than it had all the times he'd grabbed her by the hand to hold her in place - to keep her from falling apart. "So we should probably go inside too."

"We can go wherever you want to fucking go," he snapped, rolling his eyes at the morons following Pinky toward the women's clothes. "Do you need anything for camp?"

She shrugged in her orange shirt that reminded him of his hero costume, the movement so slight it was almost nothing at all. "Nothing necessary."

Perfume permeated the crowded store, patrons littering the different stalls selling cosmetics and jewelry. They walked vaguely in the direction of the others, their steps unhurried even when Tape Arms turned to wave for them to catch up. Bakugo had only offered him a vulgar gesture in return.

"Uraraka!" Pinky called, holding up what looked like scraps of fabric on a hanger. "Let's try on swimsuits!"

Uraraka blushed beside him as they approached the waiting group. "Um," she mumbled.

"Whatcha doin' that for, Ashido?" Dunce Face asked, his voice lilting to probe. "Looking for someone to get a hint or something?"

Pinky smacked him with the hanger. "Shut up, Kaminari." She turned back to Uraraka. "What do you think? I could use a new suit for some river swimming. It is on the packing list."

"Well," Uraraka said, her blush remaining. "I don't have a swimsuit, but I was just planning to not swim."

"But what if it's for training purposes?" Tape Arms asked.

Dunce Face nodded along. "Yeah, you should probably try on a bunch of suits to see which will be the most dynamic in the water."

Bakugo narrowed his eyes. "I'll kill you, you know."

"Hey now," Kirishima said, raising his hands as if to placate them. "No one is going to look or anything, but you probably should have everything on the packing list."

Uraraka was practically floating away beside him, her blush deepening from pink to red. "I guess."

"Yay!" Pinky cheered, grabbing another suit from a nearby rack. "Try this one on!"

Bakugo let go of Uraraka's hand so she could fuss over options with Pinky until the two found their way toward the dressing room, leaving him outside to wait with the guys. She really did love to make him test his patience for her sake at every opportunity.

He hated that it worked every time.

He wandered idly, refusing to keep still as his annoyance grew with the passing time.

"I still can't believe you're actually dating," Dunce Face said, walking behind him through the weaving racks of bathing suits near the fitting rooms.

Tape Arms shoved him. "You saw them in his living room."

"Yeah, but I was mostly teasing then," he said. "I figured it really was a study session or something."

"No one ever said we were dating," Bakugo said, a color catching his eye. He stopped and thumbed through the choices of two pieces.

"Are you?" Dunce Face pressed.

Bakugo didn't answer. He found what he wanted and grabbed it off the metal bar holding a dozen others.

"Leave him alone," Shitty Hair said. "You're just jealous."

"And you're not?"

Tape Arms grinned. "No, he's got his own woman to worry about."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Shitty Hair snapped, his voice cracking.

Dunce Face and Tape Arms shared a look.

"So oblivious," Tape Arms laughed.

Bakugo left them, stepping into the room lined with private changing areas he was probably not supposed to be in. "Oi," he said. "Cheeks."

"What are you doing in here?" her voice called out from behind one of the white slatted doors.

"Try this one," he said.

Nothing happened for a moment before one of the doors opened a crack, Uraraka's big brown eyes peeking through. "What?"

He extended the pink suit - the same color as her hero costume. She eyed it nervously, flitting her gaze back up to his.

"Thanks," she said, a slow smile drawing up on her face. She took the suit from him and shut the door again before he returned outside to the others.

"Guys," Shitty Hair was whining. "If someone likes me and you know it you should tell me," he said to a grinning Tape Arms and Dunce Face.

"Or you could grow a brain," Bakugo said.

Kirishima turned accusatory eyes on him, a look of betrayal stricken across his face. "Not you too!"

The girls emerged a few painful minutes later, each having left behind all their options but one.

Uraraka held the suit he'd picked out as she approached where he was leaning on a stand of one pieces and ignoring the other boys, a blush rising to her cheeks when he noticed her selection.

He held back a grin.

She'd liked it.

They moved to the check out together, Pinky sticking close to Hair for Brains' side and Bakugo rolled his eyes. Uraraka saw and turned to follow his line of sight, her brows raising.

"Oh wow," she said as they stepped into line. "He has no idea, does he?"

"Nope."

The cashier called them up and when he announced the total, Uraraka shuffled her bag around from her back.

"Put it on the Bakugo account," he said, interrupting her search for her wallet.

She turned angry eyes on him and he was starting to like that look as much as her blush.

The cashier scrutinized him for a moment.

"He's my father," Bakugo added.

"Do you know the account number?"

Bakugo nodded and told him, the cashier typing along.

"All done," they said, pulling out a receipt and bagging her purchase. "Tell Masaru hello for me."

Bakugo grunted and took the bag.

They left after Pinky paid for her own suit, the six of them filing out of the store in a wad.

"You're ridiculous," Uraraka said, her offense from earlier still a tension in her eyes. But she reached for his hand anyway.

He had been triumphant.

Aizawa and Present Mic were still near a kiosk selling bizarre robotic cat toys when they emerged, turning down the aisle to look for a new store. A pair of kids ran by the group, a man's voice howling after them to slow down and something caught Bakugo's eye. Further ahead a man stood across the massive aisle of shops, his hair an ordinary unkempt dirty blonde and a black mask pulled across his mouth and nose.

But his eyes were unflinching.

Bakugo kept up with the others as Pinky chatted about what store to hit next. Shitty Hair wanted to get some work out clothes and Tape Arms needed new shoes. Uraraka held his hand firmly, a contented smile rising from the corners of her lips.

And the man never moved.

Bakugo dared a glance back at Aizawa and Present Mic, the two having started to follow the small group of teenagers. When he turned back the man was moving, his eyes still trained on them.

On Uraraka, he realized.

A fire lit inside him.

Was this him?

Was this the villain who had stolen her parents? Her friend's life? Her sense of security?

He could feel the crackling need of his quirk ready to spill out from his palms. He could get them to go inside the nearest store and make an excuse to step outside alone. He could come face to face with the fucker. He could blast him point blank and rob him of everything he'd been trying to take from Uraraka.

He wanted to fight him.

Wanted to hurt that mother fucker worse than he'd ever hurt anyone else - see how he liked it.

The figure moved through the crowd, eyes still glued to her at his side.

Glued to him.

They stared at each other.

The others' voices faded into a distant sound roaring in the background of his mind like the rest of the people littering the mall. Families. There were families and children here.

And this asshole thought he could get away with stalking her here.

After everything he'd done.

"Katsuki?" Uraraka's voice broke through. "Are you okay?"

He tore his eyes away from the man approaching, still far away. He couldn't let her see him. And then the idea of what him confronting that guy here would do to her occurred to him for the first time. Bakugo would be taking away the good memories from the other store, the fun she was having with his friends.

Because in the end, they were his friends.

And if he picked a fight with a murderer in the middle of their trip to the mall, it would ruin not only the day but the entire camp would be cancelled. He'd be taking away their sense of safety - all of their fun.

He had to start thinking like a hero.

He was going to be number one.

Number one wouldn't pick a fight in the middle of the goddamn mall, putting countless civilians in harm's way.

"I'm fucking over this," he said, keeping watch of the guy's movements in his peripherals, not daring to let any of them follow his stare. "Let's go."

"Bakugo!" Pinky whined and Kirishima shot him a 'c'mon man' look.

But Bakugo locked eyes with Kirishima, leveling with him until his friend stiffened.

"No, I think he's right," Shitty Hair said, tearing his eyes away from Bakugo slowly. Bakugo checked on the blonde guy with a quick glance. He was still far enough away, but still moving toward them. "I still need to pack and the clothes I already have are fine."

Pinky turned to look up at Shitty Hair, but her diva act quieted. "Fine, I guess," she said, defeated.

They turned away together and for once Bakugo was glad to see Aizawa and Present Mic actually keeping a close watch on them. They caught up quickly, the teachers asking if they were ready to go to which Shitty Hair said yes.

Bakugo tightened his grip on Uraraka's hand as they left the larger hall, turning back down the way they'd entered as they made their way to the exit, casting one last glance over his shoulder before they stepped through the whirring automatic doors.

The man stood at the mouth of the smaller aisle.

His eyes still watching.


	18. Transatlanticism - Death Cab For Cutie

**In The Past**

He wore masks now.

There wasn't a time he could leave the squalor of his west side apartment without one. They held him together like a dam about to burst, sealing the raging might of rushing water between every crack that splintered the surface.

He did his best to remind himself that he was real. He'd made it out of the quirk-killing battle alive. That meant he was the real Jin, right?

Still, he referred to himself as Twice now.

Jin seemed so far away.

His fingers traced the cheap fabric itching the skin of his scalp beneath the short cropping of his hair. The hardest part was being unable to bite his nails and relieve the restlessness that plagued him day and night. Instead, he tapped his fingers along the brick wall in the dim shadows of an alley, barely hidden beneath the afternoon sun. Licking his lips and ignoring the abrasive mask against the soft skin, he kicked a rock idly toward the opposite building that shielded him.

Toga had welcomed his tail the first time he'd decided to see her for himself. His blonde cohort was twisted, unbothered by his curiosity or whether or not it was aimed toward her.

But it wasn't.

Not anymore.

The first time he'd seen her in the crowd of students released from the unrelenting prison of the school system had been months ago now and though he'd tried to keep his visits sporadic at first, his instincts had won. This week he'd come every day, waiting with doe eyes and twitchy fingers in the distance as Ochaco Uraraka emerged from the middle school.

Pools of moisture filled his vision when she'd laugh along with the blonde girl who never left her side. She was still here. Still alive. Her head was fully intact on her shoulders. Lightyears from the girl who'd been murdered on his watch.

He couldn't let it happen again.

So he would stay, keeping an invisible safeguard around her at all times, marking her as his to protect.

Today she was all smiles and he reveled in her, straightening his arm against the brick building at his back to find a better look as she crossed the small courtyard. The school was small, unassuming.

On the outskirts of town.

But the trek was always worth it.

The voices inside him had silenced. For now. He knew there would always be a 'for now' attached to any semblance of sanity he might have left. She grounded him, tethering him to the reality he'd chosen to stand for - even if Dabi had been distancing himself since his confession after the job that night, months ago.

Her parents' car arrived, an old silver thing. This was the part he dreaded - when she disappeared into the country. He'd tried following her home before, but without a vehicle of his own he couldn't keep up for quite so long. So he would have to wait for another day, another opportunity to brighten his life with the hope of Ochaco.

It was mere coincidence, though, that hours later as he stepped out of the gas station, sneakers crunching on the asphalt parking lot and a fresh box of cigarettes in hand, that he saw her again. At first, he'd thought he was starting to hallucinate. Perhaps he'd been too eager, too optimistic about the future he fantasized about with her where they could finally run away from being helpless clones and start new lives side by side.

He was sure she felt it too. The mindlessness and monotony of life ever since their mission. Because what value could you really find in a life you weren't even sure was yours? So, he knew, if he could just get a moment alone with her - if he could just talk to her then she would understand him.

She had to.

She was there.

Wasn't she?

He tapped the stiff box of cigarettes against his temple, harder and harder.

Lines were blurring, he knew. But that was just the difficulty of his situation; how was he supposed to know what was real and what was quirk-made after an event that ripped the idea of his salvation right from his grasp?

Making quick work of the cellophane wrapping, he popped open the white box of smokes and licked his finger beneath his mask before pulling out his first cigarette - so ready for a draw. His inhale burned his raw throat, the nicotine sending a lightheaded buzz through his blood. Stepping toward her was natural, following her was necessary.

Her and her blonde friend walked lazily down the sidewalk ahead of him and as his thick-soled boot touched down on the concrete walkway, she turned and her lips parted in a laugh like a tinkling bell, singing its way to his ears.

All she wanted was happiness and all he wanted was to give it to her.

He hadn't meant for his steps to catch up to them, hadn't meant to find himself close enough to smell the soft strawberry scent of her shampoo or make out the perfect hue of her natural blush in the last breaths of sunset.

Before he knew it, he was too close.

"Hey," the blonde girl grunted against him as he ushered them out of the watching eyes of the movie-goers just ahead. "What do you think you're doing?" she snapped, her small voice disguised with youth, but he still saw the looming threat beneath. She would stand between them. She would hold Ochaco back from her freedom, the joy he could bring her.

The knife was in his hands before he could think, before he could realize the same weapon he'd used to slaughter himself over and over again had sunk into the girl's flesh, tearing through to the depths of her life.

He had to save himself - whatever version of himself he was now.

Even if he wasn't real, even if the wide eyed girl backing into the shadows wasn't real either.

He didn't remember the rage, didn't remember the pain leaking from his eyes as heavy tears. He didn't remember when he'd splintered so.

However, he could remember every detail of the fine, feminine features of Ochaco Uraraka as he stepped toward her in the dark. She cried alongside him, watched him as he watched her. He felt a bond, a woven piece of himself that reached out to her, slithering inside of her and finding a long lost home. This was where he belonged. Beside her, where he could protect her from anyone and anything that stood in the way of the dream he held for them both.

They didn't have to lead these false lives.

They could be free.

Together.

He couldn't remember the words that fell haphazardly from his lips, nor when he noticed they'd been spotted. He couldn't remember when he'd realized he'd killed her friend, when he'd made the decision to flee and leave her behind. He couldn't remember her croaked whispers of screams for help or the brokenness in her pale cheeks and shaking limbs.

He couldn't remember the exact moment he'd fallen in love with Ochaco Uraraka, when he'd made the silent vow to watch over her - to rescue her one day, when the time was right.

He remembered her vacant eyes.

Eyes so much like the ones he'd seen just before the old man's quirk decimated any trace of her face, her stare, her lips, her blush.

He remembered what happened to copies like them, what was left after reality caught up.

He would never let that happen to her.

He would take her far, far away from any future beyond the freedom he'd pictured for them that day, months ago. They would be together. They would be safe.

He promised.


End file.
